Silence reigned for minutes. Sansir anxiously fidgeting with the railing. Ranvir sitting on the cold stone balcony watching the rolling forested hills. The sun was surprisingly high in the sky to Ranvir’s reckoning.
They were fast approaching winter, and the days had been growing steadily shorter, yet when he examined how far up the sphere of light sat… he’d guess they might have two, almost three hours of daylight left.
Ayvir had once told them about fighting on the front lines. Often, armies were restricted to each country’s responsible area, but tethered could be pulled out for special tasks. He’d told them about experiencing winter and summer in a single week. During his apprenticeship to Anva-Diin, Ayvir had traveled on her coattails all the way from the northern front to the southern. Days lengthened, and the weather grew warmer.
Knowing what he did now, Ranvir was curious to experiment with this subject himself. The sun wasn’t static here as it was on Korfyi, but he expected there was something more going on. The distances involved were simply too short. What could even provoke such an idea? Why should days grow shorter or longer?
The only reason he wasn’t questioning seasons was because of Belnavir. That plane, the farthest from the others, at least seemed to agree with Vednar on seasons. Though occasionally, something more irregular altered the usual behavior. ‘Season of the Phoenix’, their king had called it. Talking with the student, they’d confirmed there were a few others, but they were unpredictable and rare.
Sansir cleared his throat, bringing Ranvir’s attention back to the balcony. “You left the dinner early…”
“I did.” Ranvir glanced at his friend. Sansir had pulled a splinter free and was bending and twisting it. His ears could barely pick up the quiet snap of the varnished wood.
“Was it something he said?” Sansir hurried to follow up. “We all noticed the clash in the hall outside.”
Where are you going with this, Sansir? Ranvir wondered. His friend was pointedly avoiding his eyes, staring down at his fingers. Was there a hint of hope in his voice? Or was it something else? Hesitation was clear, but why would he be hoping for Ranvir to struggle with Asmar?
“Sometimes people just need to size each other up. He was checking to see if I’d break under the strain.” I think.
“Oh, that’s good.”
Sansir tried to hide it, but there was definitely an edge of disappointment in his voice. This is why I don’t bother with politics? Ranvir wanted to roll his eyes and walk away. Sansir had apparently hoped that he would get something specific out of meeting Asmar. But Ranvir clearly hadn’t.
However, while Ranvir couldn’t just cut through the thin ice in politics, Sansir was his friend. Sometimes friendship allowed for some bluntness.
“What is this about, Sansir? You came at me aggressively after the attack and now you’re mopey and sad.”
Sansir looked down at him and sighed. Leaning forward, resting his elbows on the railing, he regained a little of his usual intensity. Yet, Ranvir noticed that his tether-sense licked out of the room and into the heart of the mansion. A dozen times in just a few moments. A handful of seconds.
“Things have been rough. Earning your place in the Sleeping Sons is hard. All of them are Ankirian trained. They are massively skilled, and we have a momentous task on our hand. Stopping the Purists. Yet, you can never know if a citizen is a regular man or a secret conspirator. And Asmar wants results. Drives us for them.”
‘Massively skilled’ was a bit of an over-reach, but Ranvir could see where he was coming from. Sansir’s usual crowd would’ve been Elusrians. Perhaps what Sansir needed at this moment wasn’t criticism for his choice of descriptors, rather it was comfort.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“That sounds really difficult,” Ranvir said, wondering if he should get to his feet. Except, no, that might make it more awkward. If he was just standing next to him.
Sansir grimaced, his facial expression changing for a second, as if momentarily angered, then shook his head. “It is what it is.” he peered into the distant hills for a moment, brow furrowed. “I joined the Sleeping Sons, hoping to further my education and training.”
“Oh?” Ranvir asked, perking up. Only then realizing it might be insensitive to be so excited after his friend laid his heart bare. “Um…” he coughed into his bird hand. “How did that go?”
Sansir shook his head. “Not well. Asmar keeps us way too busy. What progress I have made has been with Esmund during leave.”
“This is the thing you’ve done with the Concepts, right?”
Sansir opened his mouth, then startled. “Oh, I suppose Esmund told you?”
Ranvir shrugged. “I mean, it’s pretty hard to miss.”
For a moment, Sansir just stared at him. The sunlight gleaming off his bald head. “Move on,” he muttered under his breath.
Sansir hadn’t intended to be heard, but Ranvir’s Perception-enhanced ears picked up the hushed words, anyway.
“What about you and Grevor?” Ranvir asked.
Sansir’s defenses visibly rose. His shoulders hunched, head turned away, hands knotting to fists, and brows drew to a frown. “What about it?” Another flicker of his tether-sense rushed through the manor. Ranvir didn’t think he picked up anything specific, other than no one was currently waiting behind the door. There was a nervous, erratic pattern to the way it moved.
Sighing, Ranvir rose to his feet. Leaning his back against the balcony railing, so the sunlight shone on his wings, he looked at his friend.
“You can talk to us. I want you to know that. To me, at least, the rest I can’t speak for, but my door is always open.”
Sansir looked to him, seeming almost reluctant.
“But there can’t be anymore of this manipulation shit, okay?” Ranvir forced his voice to become firm. Like when he caught Frija sneaking a snack past the agreed bedtime. Somehow, despite Sansir being seventeen years older than her, it still worked. “If you want, or need, something, you can just ask. I can’t do everything and some things I’m spectacularly bad at, but I will try. Okay?”
Sansir hung his head and nodded. “Yeah… I got it.”
Ranvir nodded, considering if he should grab his shoulder, but decided against it. Sansir had always seemed a little hesitant when it came to physical touch. Even Grev only rarely touched him.
“Do you have anything you need to say?” Ranvir asked instead.
Sansir neck and shoulders flexed and tensed for a few moments. “I don’t know… things have just been tough with Grevor spending so much time on his family…” he cut off abruptly, his tether-sense flashing out erratically and once more finding nothing.
“Perhaps it’s just not the right time. If you’re regularly so far away that it takes days, if not weeks, of travel to reach him. Grev’s duty as the protector would never allow him so much consecutive free time. Maybe you could ask to be stationed closer to the capital?”
Sansir jerked, as if accidentally touching a frosty tong to his stomach. “No, I’ve tried. Asmar wouldn’t let me. I’ve been assigned my place and it’s under Commander Tulaiha. The Commander-General is very careful about where his recruits are positioned, and he doesn’t want me too close to home?”
“Why?”
Sansir shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“Could you ask him?”
Sansir shook his head. “I’m nothing special. Private Nobody, as far as he’s concerned. Just another spoke on the wheel.”
Ranvir sighed, crossing his arms. “That sounds like you haven’t tried.”
Sansir lifted his head, but halted midway and let it hang once more. “Asmar has—“ he cut off as a servant knocked on the door.
“The meeting is resuming,” he said, poking his head through the door.
“Thank you,” Ranvir said, straightening. “What were you saying?”
Sansir shook his head and straightened. “It doesn’t matter.”
----------------------------------------
Sansir had never thought of Ranvir as implacable, yet he couldn’t seem to move him an inch. No matter how he tried, the only way he could pull a reaction out of him was threatening his child or mentioning teaching.
He ran rough hands over his bare scalp, the rasp of skin on skin loud in his ears as Ranvir’s bewinged form stopped in the doorway. “You coming?”
“In a moment.”
“Take all the time you need,” Ranvir said kindly.
If Sansir could’ve kept him just a little while longer… But no, he couldn’t risk Idrees getting upset at Ranvir’s disappearance. He’d come looking for him, bursting in at the most inopportune time.
Guilt niggled at Sansir. It burrowed into his stomach, worrying at his walls like bubbling acid. Ruthlessly, Sansir buried it, pushed it down until he felt it no more. He owed too much to his mother to let it get in the way.