Novels2Search
Wanderborn
Chapter 49 - Caden

Chapter 49 - Caden

The night air held only a mild chill, enough to be comfortable and relaxing after the humid heat that now ruled every day. Caden couldn’t resist humming to himself as he walked down the cobbled central avenue of Kellister.

Another of the myriad tiny differences between Kellister and Felisen were its streets. While Felisen had grown organically over the course a several generations, houses popping up here and there to form a tangled web of dirt roads throughout the village, Kellister had clearly been planned from its inception, laid out in a careful grid, with the main roads running both north to south and east to west, forming a cobblestoned cross through the middle of the little village.

He nodded companionably to a passing pair of hunters he had spent a couple days with, letting him practice with the gift of water they shared. The two hunters shared a smirk when they saw the direction he was heading, and Caden flushed. Had everyone in the town known that Alyssia was interested in him? Just thinking of the bartender's face when Caden had paid a pair of scepters for a bottle of blueberry fruit wine was mortifying enough.

Before long, Caden reached the end of the cobbled street, and not long after that, the limit of the last lamp in town. His eyes, strengthened by his awareness boon, rapidly adjusted to the darkness, and as he left the road, he was able to make his way through the fields that ringed the outside of the village with little more hesitation than if it was still midday.

His strides paused a moment, and he looked more closely at the fields around him, suddenly realizing where he was. In one direction was the path leading east from the village, the same path he and Storyteller had come down not so long ago. In the other direction, he could just make out the looming shadows of the wood, blocking out the stars in a jagged line. He was walking the same path he had run that first morning, chasing down one gnoll only to end up in a shooting contest with another.

One Caden’s third day in town, Alyssia had actually brought the girl he had saved, a young woman named Heather, to thank him. She was a weaver, a few years older than even Alyssia, much less Caden, and the daughter of one of the local farmers. She was attractive, with a bright smile and pleasantly curvy body, but it had taken a full day, and a passing comment from Alyssia, for him to realize that she had been interested in the young stranger who had saved her.

Caden sighed. He was, however reluctantly, beginning to come to the conclusion that he was just oblivious to these things. He wondered, idly, if he should try Surging his charm attribute, but quickly discarded the idea. He had the sneaking suspicion that he didn’t want to end up out of stamina just minutes into the night.

Alyssia was sitting at the edge of the wood, not so far from where he had killed his second gnoll. Her back rested against the trunk of the tree, one long leg stretched out in front of her while the other was bent at the knees. She was idly toying with a few rocks, tossing them in the air and catching them in sequence. Caden knew Alyssia’s gifts didn’t give any sort of awareness boost, and so she would barely be able to see in the starlit night. But her body language was as relaxed as ever, calm and composed.

“Caden?” she asked, once he was close enough for her to make out his silhouette. Her hands moved seemingly without thought, catching the last of the rocks falling back down to her then casting them aside.

“Yep.”

“About time,” she chided gently.

“Did you even come back to town for dinner?” Caden took a seat on the ground next to her, unsure of how close he should sit.

Although he tried to stay conservative, Alyssia promptly wiggled a few inches closer to him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her body. “Nah. I caught a few rabbits, and I got one of the workers to fry them up for me.”

“Well, that’s good at least.”

Alyssia chuckled, the sound surprisingly earthy for a noble. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I know. But if you didn’t have anything in your stomach, I’d feel bad offering you this,” Caden told her, slipping the bottle of fruit wine into her lap.

Alyssia gasped, the noise soft yet somehow loud enough to nestle in Caden’s brain. She slid a hand along the bottle's slender neck, and she easily popped the cork free with her earth-boosted strength. The scent of blueberries, sharp and tangy, filled the air around them.

“Sir Toren recommended it,” Caden told her. “It has enough shimmerberries in it that it should be able to punch through even your resilience.”

“Mmm, look at you with the thoughtful gifts. My very own suitor.”

Caden didn’t know how to respond to that–which was just as well, as he was thoroughly distracted by the graceful line of her throat as she tipped the bottle back, and took a long draw of the wine.

She lowered the bottle with a satisfied little noise that made Caden shiver, and passed the bottle back to him. The wine was as bright as the summer sun, tingling as it ran over his tongue and down his throat. Storyteller had cautioned him to stay conservative with the potent drink, and he kept his sip shallow.

As they sat, side-by-side, the two of them watched the moon slide out from behind a cloud. It was full and solid, emitting a brilliant light that washed over the field. Caden couldn’t help a gasp, and he felt Alyssia stiffen next to him with her own amazement.

“The moon is always so beautiful out here,” Alyssia told him, her voice a solemn whisper. “He’s almost as much the gentleman as you, tonight.”

Caden flushed a little, couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Elder… they even tell that story in the cities?”

“Of course,” Alyssia told him, her voice bright with laughter. “What? You don’t like the Gentleman Moon?”

“It’s so stupid!”

“It’s a children’s story, Caden.”

Caden huffed. “Tell that to everyone still calling themselves moon-bound or sun-drawn or whatever.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“You sound like my brother,” Alyssia observed wryly. “He hated that story too. I suppose I can understand, given your…” Alyssia paused, looked the teenager up and down, and finished her sentence with, “general demeanor.”

Caden took another sip of the wine, and frustration leaked into his voice as he replied. “Women are expected to be warm, and compassionate, and constant, and loving, men are allowed to be cold and hard and dynamic and all the women love them for it anyways–and those are the only two options. It’s a bad story.”

Alyssia snorted, and slid back slightly, giving her a better angle to look at him. The sudden lack of her closeness brought color to Caden’s cheeks, realizing how loud his complaining had become.

Still smiling, the older girl reached out and slid the wine bottle out of Caden’s hands. “I think that’s probably enough for you.”

Caden frowned. “Sorry. I just… I don’t like that story.”

“I don’t blame you. Noble knows I dealt with plenty of that attitude growing up too. I’m not exactly the sunniest girl in the world, you know.”

Caden felt a small smile return to his face, fighting through his embarrassment. “No, really?”

Alyssia flashed him a mock hurt look, lifting her hand to chest. Of course, her protest was weakened by the fact that the hand she lifted was still holding the bottle of wine–a situation she quickly took advantage of, taking another long pull. “You know, it’s not all like that anymore.”

“Hmm?”

“In the cities, I mean. The older nobles, like my father, they’re all still stuck on ‘proper’ solar femininity and lunar masculinity, but it’s not like that for everyone anymore. For a lot of us, the younger generation especially, it just provides useful language to describe ourselves.”

Caden tilted his head, feeling his habitual curiosity overrule the liquor and his disdain. “What do you mean?”

Alyssia pursed her lips thoughtfully–then the look quickly morphed into a wicked smile. “Well, like you said before, if you’re interested in women, you’re called sun-bound or sun-drawn, right? Same for men with the moon.”

“Sure,” Caden agreed, not sure where she was going with this.

“Well, what do you call someone who doesn’t have a preference like that? Who can be attracted to anyone, regardless of gender?”

Caden opened his mouth, then closed it thoughtfully. “I don’t know… equinal? Like the equinox?”

Alyssia rolled her eyes. “Oh that’s a mouthful. Equinal… no.”

“Then what do you call it?”

“There’s a few terms. Some people like dawn-bound, or dusky, or something like that. Personally, my favorite is twilit.”

“Twilit, I like…” Caden trailed off. “Wait. Your favorite?”

“Yes, Caden.”

“As in you are-”

“Yes, Caden.”

Caden paused, his eyes widening, and he needed to clarify a little more. “Wait, so you mean-”

“Elder’s name, yes Caden, I don’t have a preference. I am twilit.”

Caden flushed, and couldn’t help the little butterflies that suddenly burst into being in his stomach. He… hadn’t known there were people like that. Well, he knew that he didn’t have a preference, but he had never been very attached to the idea of gender in the first place. Everyone else he had ever met in Felisen though, they had some sort of preference, and after Brian was so uncomfortable with him, he never thought…

“There’s a good one I heard for someone like you, too.”

Caden’s chain of thought came to a jangling halt at those words. “S-someone like me?” he asked, shocked to hear his voice trembling.

“Eclipsed, they call it.” Alyssia smiled as she explained. “Like an eclipse, when the sun lights up the moon or the moon blocks out the sun. When one gender blocks out another.”

Caden deflated. “Oh… I see.”

Alyssia frowned, clearly confused by his reaction. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s… it’s just not like that for me.”

“OH, I’m sorry!” Alyssia exclaimed. “I just thought… I mean, I saw when you got here, but then you were dressing like that…”

“I just do that sometimes,” Caden told her with a diffident shrug. “Some days, I feel… well, sunny. Other days I’m as much a full moon as he is tonight.” He tilted his chin up at the moon, still staring down from overhead. “And some days I’m not much of either.”

Alyssia's face darkened, and Caden’s mood sank a little further. He should’ve known better than to think-

“Celestial!”

Caden looked at the girl in shock. “What?”

“Celestial. Like, a celestial body, but not the sun or the moon. Starry or comet are common names too.”

Caden felt his face go pale, his eyes wide. “Th-there’s a word for that?”

“Mhmmm.”

“There’s other people? Like me? Who have a word for… for us?”

“Yes.”

Caden blinked at Alyssia, then looked back to the moon. His mouth moved, but he couldn’t quite manage a reply. Celestial. There was a word that felt… felt right. Celestial. Not the sun or the moon, but something else. Something just as great, but different.

“Well.” What voice he finally managed was feeble. “I’m celestial. That’s… that’s big.”

“You never knew?” Alyssia asked. Her voice was gentle, and close, and Caden was startled to find her sitting right next to him again, her side pressed against him.

“I just… I never met anyone like me. The people I grew up with sort of accepted it because I was the chief hunter’s kid… but I still–” Caden’ voice cracked, remembering his pain, her pain, their pain when Brian hadn’t wanted them anymore.

Alyssia's fingers, long and strong, curled around Caden’s. “There was someone you liked?”

“Yes. A boy.” Caden’s voice cracked again on the last word, and he tightened his jaw. “A sun-drawn boy.”

“Ah. Well. His loss, then.”

Caden looked up, surprised by the sudden brightness in her tone–then her lips met his. He stiffened in surprise for a moment, then relaxed, pressing himself closer to her. Her smell filled his nostrils, like quenching iron and fertile soil and summer sweat. She tasted of the blueberry wine that had fallen from her fingers, forgotten, and the kiss made his lips tingle in a way the wine never had.

He was celestial. For the first time, he had a word he could identify with. He knew what he was, who he was. He, they, felt whole, and seen, and desired, and the night melted into a moon-shrouded dream that tasted like blueberries and smelled like a graceful fight.