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Caleb Widogast spends his days within the Tidepeak working with Yussa Errenis to uncover the secrets of the Heirloom Sphere. Some evenings, when he needs the fresh air or when he is puzzling out a particularly difficult problem, he will stroll through the markets of Nicodranas or visit the Brenattos for dinner. Veth still keeps bringing up a camp for young adventurers, Yeza looks less enthusiastic than his wife.
Caleb takes Luc aside and teaches him a small cantrip. Light. Luc spends his dinners snapping his fingers at a button he flicks to spin like a top, it flickers at first but soon the light is bright and warm and lights up his proud face when he goes to show his mother. And then, as it always does, that wave of melancholy slaps Caleb in the face. A young Bren, pride on his face, as he uses Mage Hand to dangle a goose feather in front of Frumpkin’s nose. His mother’s smile was the same as the one Veth wears now. That is how Caleb knows he has stayed too long. He is a somber undertaker in the home of a happy family, still dragging his ghosts around with him.
He thanks them for the dinner and then bids them goodnight. Daylight is waning on the Menagerie Coast, the entire market and port are lit up with one of its famous crimson sunsets. Does the sun glow this red for Jester, Fjord, and Kingsley wherever they are out on the water? Caleb has started walking towards the Mother’s Lighthouse, his feet carrying him even though he himself does not know where he is going or what he is looking for when he stops, not quite sure what he is seeing: Essek floating with his parasol through the markets. He could have teleported straight to the tower. Yet somehow Caleb knows he didn’t. He chose instead to appear on the outskirts of town and wander his way through, moving with a comfort that Caleb realizes means he has no fear of Kryn Dynasty eyes upon him. Here they both are, two paranoid wizards, strolling unhindered. Free. A freedom Caleb could never have imagined before he met the Mighty Nein. The parasol shades Essek as he moves through the tall shadows of the town, now closing up its stalls. Every now and then a ray of light will find its way through a window or a crack in the alley and blink off of the silver clasps upon his dark purple robes. He looks just like the starry night sky that is slowly pulling over them like a heavy blanket.
When Essek finally sees him, he smiles. “I have taken great steps towards redeeming myself and my security this day,” Essek tells Caleb and though he is not smiling, he seems pleased.
They fall in next to each other as they make their way back to Yussa’s tower. Caleb is already explaining the current obstacle in his research as if Essek had never left. As if he’d been there all along. Essek offers his expertise as needed. They arrive at the tower.
“Your room is ready as always, sir,” Wensforth says, welcoming them in with a bow.
Essek thanks him and they head to the laboratory.
Caleb explains the problem of an acid room he found within the Heirloom Sphere. “I’m sure there is a path through here but I cannot see it. It is clearly rigged to rain acid down on intruders but I cannot locate the individual pressure plates. If I had my familiar I might have sent him through but alas.”
Essek nods, having seen the fey cat depart into the wood all that time ago.
“He was not my Frumpkin, although he looked a great deal like him,” Caleb explains, not quite sure why he was doing so. Maybe it was because he had him on his mind only just earlier that evening. “And my Frumpkin died quite a few years before I—before the fire. I just wanted a piece of home. It seems so strange that humans put so much love into such a small creature, knowing that its time with us is short. Yet we act surprised almost, when its time comes to an end. What wonder and love and heartbreak all rolled into a tiny life.”
There is a flicker of recognition across Essek’s face and he looks away.
Caleb realizes he must seem a bit like a cat to an elf like Essek.
“I think,” Essek says after a time, his voice soft. “I finally understand the gift of consecution. I had always thought of it as a power grab, a way to keep the subjects of the Dynasty in line so that perhaps one day they might be blessed with consecution. And now I understand its true value. To be born again and again with those you love. To have comfort knowing you will see them again.”
What is left unspoken is that Essek already searches every face he passes for Caleb’s. And every time they meet again, he sees Essek inspecting his face for new lines, for signs of aging, watching him slowly fade from this mortal plane in front of him. And after Caleb is gone, he will not be remade anew, there will be no rebirth for him. Yet Essek will keep searching, long after he has forgotten what Caleb looks like.
Essek has turned his gaze to the floor and Caleb reaches out his hand to turn his face to him.
“Neither of us is dead yet, jah?” he says with a small smile.
Caleb has grown weary of mourning those he loved, he will not allow himself to mourn his own death quite yet.
When Caleb kisses Essek he can taste the salty air of the Menagerie Coast on his lips. He can taste sunlight and warmth and the slightest tingle of magic. He parts and Essek opens his eyes and his face softens.
Then, abruptly, a change crosses over Essek’s expression of surprise.
Caleb worries for a brief moment that he has taken a step too far when Essek holds up his hand for Caleb to wait.
He clears his throat. “Jester!” he says to the air and Caleb laughs. “How good to hear from you! Yes, Caleb is here. Yes he just did. It was very nice. Sorry about the turtle.” Then to Caleb. “Sorry about the interruption.”
Caleb laughs and pulls him in for another embrace.