Chapter Text
Fire wasn’t technically illegal in Founder’s Wake, but in an underwater city where oxygen was a precious resource, it was definitely frowned on to light unnecessary flames. Still, as long as they were careful, Brother Seldom didn’t have a problem with letting Devotion have a bit of a ceremonious burning of his old Parish robes. It was therapeutic, and goodness knows that Devotion needed all of the therapy he could get.
In the little open yard behind the schoolhouse, Seldom had procured a round metal container. Devotion, now wearing the plain maroon clothes that Seldom had gotten for him, was holding a lit match with a trembling hand. He was hesitating.
Seldom pinched the flame out before it could reach Devotion’s fingers to burn him. “You know, you don’t have to,” he reminded him.
“I want to burn them,” protested Devotion. “I do not doubt myself. I just…”
“This is making it feel very permanent, isn’t it?” Seldom asked.
“They are just clothes.”
“If they were just clothes, you wouldn’t have told me that you wanted to burn them on the first night you came to me.”
Devotion looked at him, conflicted. “Why do I feel like I am doing something wrong?” he wondered.
“Because you’ve still got Guidance’s voice knocking around in there,” Seldom replied, reaching up to tap Devotion’s forehead. “You need to be louder. Tell her to shut the fuck up, that usually shocks her into silence for long enough to get a few minutes of peace.”
Devotion laughed. He had been doing that more recently, but still not enough, so Seldom definitely felt proud every time it happened because of him. He closed his eyes briefly. “Shut the fuck up, Guidance,” he muttered under his breath, then opened his eyes again and smiled nervously. He held out his hand for another match. “Can I try again?”
Seldom handed him a freshly lit match. (Devotion had tried to light them himself first, but he wasn’t getting the hang of it and had gotten too frustrated after about a dozen matches.) “Light ‘em up,” he said.
After only a second or two of hesitation, Devotion dropped the match down squarely on top of the robes at the bottom of the container. The bit of cooking oil that Seldom had poured onto them burst into flames quickly, and Devotion jumped back. “Oh, wow!” he exclaimed.
Delighted, Seldom clapped a few times. “There you go!”
Devotion stepped cautiously back up to gaze down into the spreading flames. He stood, transfixed, as the fire swallowed up the blue cloth and burned away the golden embroidery of the symbol of Benevolence. He didn’t say anything as it just kept burning, until all that was left was a pile of smoking grey ash. When he finally stepped back and raised his head enough that Seldom could see his face, there were tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Ah,” Seldom said. “Do you want a minute alone?”
“No,” Devotion choked out.
Seldom nodded. “I didn’t think so, but I thought I’d check. You can stay out here or go back inside, I’ll stick with you whichever you choose.”
He crouched down next to the container, looking more closely at the ashes. “I cannot tell if I feel better,” he said through his tears. “I cannot tell what I feel.”
“That’s alright. Just let yourself feel it, whatever it is.” Seldom waited. Eventually, Devotion stood up and fled inside. Seldom followed him, and sat next to him where he had dropped down onto the old sofa in the dormitory kitchen. “That was a very big step, Devotion, and I’m proud of you,” he said seriously.
To his surprise, Devotion crumpled against him and rested his head on his shoulder.
Seldom wrapped his arms around him quickly. “I’m here,” he murmured. “You’re alright.” Devotion had never actually asked for a hug before. Being raised in the Parish had left him with a weird, strained relationship with physical affection. He seemed willing to accept it when it was offered (sometimes with the sort of desperation that told Seldom he hadn’t gotten nearly enough of it so far in his life), but hadn’t yet been comfortable initiating it. Seldom wanted to tell him that he was proud of him for that as well, but he worried that drawing any attention to it at all would make Devotion less likely to do it again.
Saying nothing, Devotion pressed closer. His breathing was tremulous. As Seldom stroked his hair, he broke into sobs. It did feel sometimes like any attempt to comfort him just made him more upset, but Seldom knew from the way Devotion was leaning into him that it was helping.
Eventually, Devotion sniffled and sat up again, wiping his eyes. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then hesitated and stayed silent.
“What is it?” asked Seldom.
“I...” He glanced away. “It’s nothing.”
“Are you sure? I’m here to listen to whatever you have to say, even if it is nothing.”
“I am not sure...I have been thinking about something, but...I am not sure if I am ready yet,” admitted Devotion.
Seldom squeezed his shoulder. “Completely fair. Whenever you are ready, just let me know, whatever it is.”
With a half-smile, Devotion nodded. “I will. Um, I think I would like to be...alone for a little while. Finish the book you gave me.”
“Oh, the one about the pirates? Are you enjoying it?”
He nodded again, standing up. “It is interesting, how ships used to be. They keep mentioning winds and sails, and I do not know exactly how to picture them, but it sounds beautiful.”
Seldom smiled. “Well, keep enjoying it. I’ll find some art of sailing ships for you to look at. I could try to draw them myself, but we both know that wouldn’t help you picture them better.”
“True,” said Devotion, his mouth twitching. “The picture of the pine tree you gave me was...”
“It was a lopsided cone on a stick, yes.” Seldom rolled his eyes and made a shoo-ing gesture. “Now go read, figure out if they find the treasure or not. There’s a plot twist waiting on that island that you’re going to love.”
Devotion’s eyes lit up and he practically ran out of the kitchen towards his room.
Seldom let out a long, quiet sigh after he was gone. Today had certainly been a big step--a few big steps, really--but there was still a long, long way to go. He was loathe to let Devotion know how stressed he was about the whole situation, because the boy needed someone stable, someone confident and consistent with affection and reassurances, someone who didn’t doubt him. And it wasn’t Devotion that Seldom was doubting, it was himself. He was a teacher, sure, but there was a difference between teaching five to fifteen year olds reading, writing, critical thinking, history, and logic, and teaching a twenty-two year old everything about how to function in society. Especially when that twenty-two year old was an emotionally traumatized magic user with the kind of puppy-dog-eyes and verbal charm that were either going to get him everywhere in life or just get him killed.
He was worried about Devotion. Here in the schoolhouse, only really interacting with Seldom and the dozen or so students who attended regularly, he wasn’t getting exposed to the real world. The last thing Seldom wanted was to push him out before he was ready, into something he wasn’t prepared for, getting him hurt. Gods, if Seldom did anything that resulted in Devotion getting hurt, he would never forgive himself. And yet there was only so much he could do to protect him. He hadn’t dared to bring up the question of what Devotion actually wanted to do for fear of overwhelming him or making him think that he was looking forward to the day that Devotion would leave. On the contrary, Seldom enjoyed having Devotion around at the schoolhouse so much.
But the boy wasn’t a teacher, that much was obvious. He got along well with the children, learned alongside them and helped them wherever he could, but it didn’t make him glow with enthusiasm. Seldom only saw that happen when he heard stories about the old explorers, about Phineas Cawl and all of the adventurers that had come before him. Or when one of the students came to class ready to regale everyone with a second-hand account of the strange, terrifying new creature that someone their parents knew had seen on an expedition away from the city.
Seldom didn’t even think Devotion was aware of it, but he knew what that meant. He’d seen so many restless students over the years in Founder’s Wake, students who couldn’t remember a time before life was contained in domes underwater, small spaces that opened up into slightly larger small spaces, a time when the open sky was the limit. They all had something inside of them, a wandering spirit that just knew there was more out there, that longed to see it for themselves. Devotion was going to leave for the open seas someday. Even if Devotion didn’t know it, Seldom had no doubt. He just hoped that he could teach him enough in the meantime to make sure he came back alive.