Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Well, this is convenient,” mused Essek, staring across the yawning pit blocking his and Caleb’s path. “Do you think you can clear it?”

Caleb – cAPEleb – grunted with a shrug that Essek interpreted as “maybe”.

“It looks about twenty feet, I am pretty sure I’ve seen you jump further,” Essek reasoned, trying very hard not to look down into the lightless abyss that waited for them if they failed, “and if you stumble, I will cast Fly on you, and we will reach the other side with no more spells wasted than if you hadn’t tried to begin with.”

Capeleb looked thoughtful – a strange expression on a giant ape – then nodded in agreement. Before Essek could say or do anything else, a giant hand grabbed him by the midsection, holding him surprisingly gently as Capeleb backed up, got a running start, then at the last possible second, leapt into the air.

They soared, for almost two seconds, over that gaping fissure in the fabric of Aeor, like the entire city had been ruptured down this line which they had found in their path after narrowly escaping a number of abominations down some unmapped tunnels. They’d been exploring Aeor for almost two months, now, and were getting remarkably good at working as a team. They had discovered, fairly early on, that it was better to avoid fights where possible. They had also discovered that if they did have to fight, one of them was probably going to get shmushed before they were done, and in that case, it was best for one of them to plan to soak up the damage while the other stayed back and supported them with spells. Caleb was far more comfortable Polymorphing himself than Essek, and thus they had developed their go-to strategy of Hasted Giant Ape, which could tank excellently, but if things went badly, still had the wherewithal to grab Essek and run.

Their last fight had been one of those, hence Essek’s reluctance to waste spells; he had precious few left. Caleb had more, or would do when he was not a 16ft fur-covered beast, but he had been content to stay as Essek’s gruff protector for the last twenty minutes as they picked their way down these new paths, unaware of what perils might lie ahead but preferring that to the known perils which definitely waited behind.

Mid-air, Essek suddenly felt a disorienting wave of…something…and the hand around his torso vanished, leaving him hurtling freely through the air towards the stone passageway on the other side. Essek yelled in alarm and flailed, trying to catch hold of something, and on the second reach his fingers brushed something and he clung onto it for dear life, yanking it closer as the ground approached.

The good news was: he was almost definitely going to make it to the other side. The bad news was: he was going to hit it hard.

The thing he had grabbed was Caleb’s sleeve, the man himself returned to human form, and he was yelling now too, the words somewhat garbled by their high-intensity situation. In the last moment, Essek realised he should be following the backup plan; he pulled out a feather and, with barely a second to spare, drew Caleb close and cast Fly on both of them.

The ground hit them like a runaway cart, pummelling them both from all sides as they tumbled head-over-heels, losing their grip on each other and finally skidding to a halt. Essek fetched up flat on his back, every inch of his body pounding with the blood that was rushing through his ears, his vision taking several moments to right itself. His spell hadn’t worked; perhaps he’d cast it too late. He hadn’t even felt it fizzle out, although he was sure he’d cast it right, even under the stress. Ouch. At least he was alive, not at the bottom of a pit, and he thought he’d managed to avoid a concussion.

“…Caleb?” he croaked, telling himself that he’d force his jellied limbs to move if he got no response.

To his relief, though, Caleb’s voice answered from just feet away. “Ja, apologies, that was not good.”

Essek couldn’t hold back a slightly delirious laugh of relief. “Are you badly hurt?”

“No, are you?”

“I don’t think so,” Essek replied, slowly forcing his limbs to move one by one before sitting up slowly. He had hit his head at least once, and it throbbed as he sat, his vision spinning for just a moment before settling. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Caleb said, and Essek could hear a clear note of frustration in his voice. He turned to see Caleb picking himself up off the floor just five feet away. “My spell just vanished.”

Essek stumbled slowly to his feet, using the wall for balance, before making a small gesture to trigger his floating and take some of the weight off his trembling knees.

Nothing happened.

White-hot fear speared through Essek’s chest, and he looked at Caleb with the blood draining from his face.

“Caleb? How about some light down here?”

“It’s not too dark,” Caleb frowned, “and it might draw attention to us.”

“Please?” begged Essek, “For me?”

Seeming to pick up that something was wrong, Caleb waved his hand for the Dancing Lights cantrip.

Nothing happened.

Scowl deepening, Caleb tried again, to the same effect. Cursing, he tried a bigger spell, pulling out the sprig of catmint for Cat’s Ire…nothing. Essek could see realisation dawning on Caleb’s face, and something worse as they both looked back at where they came from and reached the same conclusion.

“There’s no way we’re bridging that gap without magic,” Caleb whispered.

Essek glanced forward, down the tunnel ahead of them. It didn’t seem to get any lighter. “The arcana-dampening fields we’ve experienced before have never been very big. Perhaps we will find the other side shortly.”

Caleb fixed him with a grim expression. “And what if we don’t?”

“Then it doesn’t change the fact that right now, forward is our only option. In the worst case scenario, we find materials to build some kind of bridge and come back this way,” Essek reasoned.

“In the worst case scenario, something attacks us in the first place we find and we both die with no way of defending ourselves,” Caleb pointed out.

“Most of the creatures we’ve fought thus far have been arcane in nature,” said Essek, looking for whatever scrap of hope he could find. “Perhaps this area is devoid of them.”

“Our luck never works like that,” muttered Caleb, but he started walking anyway.

Essek swallowed, and moved to catch up.

When Caleb clumsily pulled a dagger from his belt, Essek followed his example and fumbled within his pack before pulling out a basic hand-crossbow, which he loaded nervously. He hadn’t used a weapon like this in decades. It was still better than nothing.

“Do you…ah…know how to use that thing?” he asked Caleb quietly.

“Stick it with the pointy end,” replied Caleb dryly.

“This is terrifying,” Essek muttered, and Caleb shot a sympathetic glance back at him.

It was unclear where the dim light in the hallway was coming from – possibly reflected from behind them – but whatever the case, it got darker and darker as they travelled, until Caleb came to an abrupt halt and Essek froze half a step behind him.

“I am afraid I cannot see,” whispered Caleb into the darkness. “You will have to guide me from here.”

Essek stepped closer and took Caleb’s outstretched hand, letting himself be pulled closer as Caleb gripped his arm tightly, barely managing not to get stabbed. “Are you sure?” Essek asked. “We could find another way…”

He wasn’t sure if there was another way – they hadn’t seen one, and Essek suspected this tunnel was for maintenance or transport or something – but he didn’t want to make Caleb continue if it was uncomfortable for him.

“Nein, we need to keep going,” Caleb said firmly. “I trust you not to steer me into any walls.”

Essek marvelled slightly at the confidence in Caleb’s voice. He was trusting Essek with his life. It was the most terrifying privilege Essek could think of, and he wished he felt like he even slightly deserved it.

“I will do my best,” Essek promised, feeling the responsibility sink deep down to his bones, and together they walked onwards into this new level of Aeor.

Caleb was surprisingly easy to guide, in spite of numerous obstacles which only now deigned to complicate their trek. Essek guided him over fallen rubble, around strange pools of liquid and dubious mounds of fungi, and down the most promising routes of several forks and intersections that dotted their path.

“You seem to have far more confidence in me than I have in myself,” Essek commented as he guided Caleb to duck through a narrow, collapsed aperture.

“I am used to being guided by Beauregard while watching through Frumpkin’s eyes, and she is a far less attentive guide than you have been,” replied Caleb with a fond smile directed just to the right of where Essek actually was.

The further they went, the more damaged their surroundings seemed to be, and their pace slowed and slowed until suddenly Caleb blinked and dropped Essek’s hand in favour of bringing it up in front of his face.

“Either I am developing darkvision again, or there is light up ahead,” he concluded.

“Given the circumstances under which you achieved darkvision last time, let us hope it is the latter,” replied Essek, and began to weave his way forward again, still holding Caleb’s other hand and using it to keep the human behind him. Light or not, it was wise to have the one with better vision at the front.

Their surroundings began to grow distinctly lighter after that, until they realised the faint glow was filtering through the cracks and crevices in the structure of the hallway. Then they rounded a corner and found solid rock blocking their path, as if the city had half-teleported into the stone. Both of them stopped short.

“Uhhh, this was not in the plan,” said Caleb, eyes raking up and down the stone. There was some sort of faintly luminescent moss growing on it which explained the light, somewhat.

Essek cast his eyes over the joint between rock and metal. “I don’t see any way around it, without going back.”

“Do you think it has anything to do with the lack of magic here?” Caleb wondered aloud.

Essek thought for a moment. “Possibly. There is no reason to think the moss is necessarily magical, even though it glows, however the source of the arcana-dampening field may be an Eiselcross phenomenon rather than an Aeor one.”

“Or some strange combination of the two?”

“Certainly possible.”

“Do we attempt to go round?” Caleb asked, finally taking his eyes off the roadblock to meet Essek’s gaze.

“If this wall is extensive, it is in our best interests to go in the opposite direction, as that may loop us back round to a place we know we can escape this field,” mused Essek. “If it is a local phenomenon, however, we should follow past it if possible. You can get us back on the right track if we deviate, yes?”

“That is north,” said Caleb, pointing.

Essek smiled easily at that. Before the Mighty Nein, so many of his smiles had simply been for display, but those days were long over. “Then we have nothing to worry about,” he said. “I think I saw a possible side-route a minute or so back, come on, let’s check it out.”

They found the branching hallway without much difficulty, but soon discovered that, less than a hundred paces onwards, the entire right side of the corridor had been ripped away, leaving a gaping hole and a fifty-foot drop into water which reflected the glowing moss of the natural stone walls around it.

Essek and Caleb shared a trepidatious look.

“We could go back, find another route?” suggested Caleb.

Essek peered further along the half-corridor. “It seems to continue on the other side; I think this should be fine as long as we stick close to the wall, yes?”

Caleb chuckled. “What could go wrong?”

“Don’t say that, please,” Essek begged.

“Fair enough. Would you like me to go first?” offered Caleb.

Essek took another look at the drop, and the remaining slice of corridor, barely wide enough to walk along and questionably stable. “I can do it,” he said bravely, “I am lighter than you, especially when my books are trapped in my wristpocket dimension while yours are by your side. If there are any unstable sections, hopefully I can discover them without actually triggering a collapse.”

“Very well,” Caleb acquiesced, stepping back to let Essek take the lead again.

Essek inched his way carefully, stepping over any sections that looked loose or weak, his back pressed up against the one wall even though there probably would have been space to walk normally if he’d been brave enough. Caleb followed, a look of intense concentration and fear on his face, and Essek began to regret not taking his offer of turning back and finding a different route. The stretch of damaged corridor seemed a lot longer when actually on it. Still, there was no use turning back now.

About two thirds of the way across, Essek reached the narrowest point yet, where the floor was only just a foot-length wide. Holding his breath and gathering his courage, Essek pushed himself even flatter against the wall and began to shuffle along it.

He wasn’t expecting the wall to go out from behind him. One moment it was there, the next, the sound of crumpling architecture accompanied his own yell of surprise as he pitched backwards into freefall. He flung out his hands, but the corridor was already out of reach and his fingers closed on air. He thought he heard Caleb scream his name, and then he hit the water.

Chapter Text

The cold was so shocking that for several long seconds, Essek couldn’t breathe. That was just enough time for him to remember that breathing wasn’t a good thing when one was underwater, followed by the panicked thought: oh Light. I’m underwater.

Essek knew how to swim. His parents had made sure of that when he was young, one of the few physical activities that they’d enforced even after he’d shown a distinct lack of any sort of athletic prowess. For that reason alone, he would have hated it, but as his peers began discovering past lives and new skills and he remained Essek, dunamantic prodigy and new soul, his early attempts to build a wall of respect between himself and the rest of the world were thoroughly undermined on a weekly basis by being forced to strip down to a pair of trunks and propel himself with bony, unmuscular limbs back and forth across a freezing outdoor pool on the grounds of Den Thelyss. He stopped as soon as he was allowed, and promptly shrouded his embarrassingly-thin body in a mantle of dignity – both literally and figuratively – while silently promising himself he’d never go swimming again.

That had been almost a century ago. As he flailed and kicked, trying desperately to find the surface, Essek wondered whether those lessons might have had the opposite effect to the one intended, and his decades-long aversion to swimming was going to be the reason he drowned.

His cloak was tangling in his limbs and he tried to find the clasp to release it but his hand got wrapped in the fabric and he couldn’t get it free. Desperately, he kicked, not knowing the direction, only knowing that in three more seconds he was going to inhale and it was going to be bad. The water was fresh but he could barely keep his eyes open, could barely see anything anyway, and his lungs were going to explode and suddenly he couldn’t hold them still any longer. Panic surged within him, and a spike of pain shot through the back of his nose as he sucked in water, his mouth still clamped shut; immediately he coughed and suddenly water was filling his mouth too, the freezing cold liquid chilling him from the inside and sending a sharp pain through his chest. Wasn’t drowning meant to be peaceful? Essek felt anything but peaceful as he thrashed wildly, his chest spasming, water and darkness surrounding him on all sides.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he flung out a hand and felt the chill bite of air on his fingers, different from the permeating frigidness of the water. He kicked towards it desperately and for a moment his head surfaced, long enough to hack and cough and wheeze some air into his lungs. He kept coughing as his cloak dragged him under again and got another mouthful of water which he tried to spit out, finally untangling his arm from his cloak and pushing himself above water again.

Every muscle in his body was burning, the combination of the cold and exertion worse than any physical ordeal he could remember, including the time when his Teleport misfired. Even the fight with Lucien hadn’t left him so panicked and exhausted – he’d at least had time to breathe between attacks. He forced himself to keep treading water, even after his limbs started feeling like jelly and his hands and feet had lost sensation, knowing that giving up and letting himself sink would mean filling his lungs with water again, which would mean losing. One of the many reasons Essek hated swimming was that he’d always been a sore loser.

He knew, in his head, that he needed to get to shore, whatever “shore” meant down here beneath Aeor.  That meant actually swimming, though, not just treading water with adrenaline-fuelled fervour, and Essek was too cold and panicked to remember how to even start. As his efforts grew weaker, and he was forced to tilt his head back further and further to keep his nose above the surface, he began to wonder again whether, despite his best attempts, this was it. Did Essek Thelyss die alone and terrified in a lake beneath a dead city, leaving his travelling companion and closest friend to wander through the city’s horrors alone? Was he just the first to die, soon to be followed by Caleb, since a lone human with no arcane protections and no martial abilities would surely not last long in this place?

Essek’s heart clenched so hard that he gained a few inches in the water, driven by fear and denial. He wouldn’t leave Caleb. He couldn’t. But how was he supposed to save Caleb when he couldn’t even save himself? He could feel his limbs losing strength as he succumbed to shivering; his ears might as well have not been attached to his head…

Something wrapped around his middle and Essek tensed, ready to lash out, when a voice next to his ear said, “Just relax, don’t struggle, ja? I’ve got you.”

Essek almost passed out with relief then, the fight leaving him in an instant. He almost expected to immediately sink, but a solid arm was locked around his chest and keeping him afloat. He felt Caleb lean back in the water and start swimming again, dragging Essek along with him, and the best thing Essek could do was keep his shivering to a minimum and try not to seize up in a coughing fit, which would make it harder for Caleb to keep a hold of him.

Eventually, Caleb stopped kicking and floated into a crouch, then stood, half-carrying a dripping Essek with him. Essek stumbled into the shallows, feeling algae-slick rock beneath his feet, before collapsing to his hands and knees and being violently sick into the water. About halfway through, he realised that Caleb was crouched next to him, rubbing his back.

“Sorry,” Essek croaked. His voice felt like sandpaper, and a bit more lake water dribbled from his lips as he spoke.

“You’re alive, and that’s what matters,” Caleb murmured in reply. Essek could hear the shiver in his voice, and felt immediately guilty for it.

Unable to find the words or the energy to respond, Essek just shook his head, feeling the water drip from his hair as he trembled from head to toe. He didn’t know if he had the strength to move.

“Let’s get you out of this lake, yeah?” prompted Caleb gently, and Essek didn’t struggle as Caleb helped him to his feet, taking most of his weight and all of his balance, and hauled them both the last stretch out of the water.

A safe distance from the edge, where the rocks were no longer slippery, Essek could see a small pile of Caleb’s items discarded haphazardly over a cushion of glowing moss. It made him glance sideways, and only then realise that Caleb was only in his shirt and trousers, his pack, coat, scarf, boots, and books in their holsters conspicuously not on his person. Essek almost commented, but a dire realisation hit him before the words left his mouth.

“Oh Luxon – my pack!”

“It is not here,” said Caleb grimly, “I am sorry.”

Essek groaned and buried his head in Caleb’s damp shoulder. “I s-should be grateful that my m-most important books were not in there, but th-that’s two healing potions gone, and half our f-food.”

“We will make do,” said Caleb firmly, rubbing his hands up and down Essek’s frozen arms as they both sank to the mossy ground next to Caleb’s stuff. “We will find the edge of this anti-magic field, and teleport somewhere nice for a bit. Somewhere warm. Come back when we’re recovered and re-stocked.”

“S-sounds nice,” Essek shivered, leaning into Caleb’s warm body as he tried and failed to get his numb fingers to work the clasp on his cloak.

Caleb gently pushed his hands aside and unfastened the cloak with shivering but deft fingers, followed by the ties on his fur-lined robes and his shoes and socks, helping Essek shrug off the waterlogged outer layers until he was just shivering in his undershirt and trousers.

“Come sit against the wall,” Caleb guided, and Essek shuffled obediently over the mossy carpet to the spot Caleb indicated. A moment later, something warm and dry engulfed his shoulders and Essek found himself being draped in Caleb’s coat, one of the few blessedly dry garments between them.

“I c-can’t accept this,” he protested, weakly trying to push it off as Caleb pulled the collar closed and started to fasten the toggles.

“I am no expert, but I do not think the appropriate colour for drow fingers is grey, Essek,” Caleb said firmly. “Pull your knees up to your chest.”

Too cold to argue, Essek obliged, and Caleb folded the base of the coat beneath him and continued fastening it all the way to the bottom, until Essek was wrapped up like an egg in a parcel.

“A-are you sure this is n-necessary?” Essek mumbled into the collar. It smelled like ink and ashes, like Caleb.

“I would not have you turning into an icicle,” said Caleb as he picked up one end of his scarf and, without asking permission, started drying Essek’s hair with it. Essek huddled lower in the coat. “I have it on good authority that icicles do not do very good magic, on account of them having no fingers.”

Essek shuddered at the thought, disguised amid his overall shivering, and tried to flex his fingers to get some feeling back into them. He was beginning to feel a burning sensation across the skin of his extremities, working its way downwards. He hoped that was a good sign.

The scarf was warm against his hair, as Caleb towelled the strands dry then dabbed the remaining water from his face, neck, and frozen ears.

“You sh-should n-not neglect yourself,” Essek said, tilting his head to meet Caleb’s eyes. They were the intense blue of the heart of a flame, he thought, burning heat rather than icy cold. Caleb’s face was flushed pink from the lake, and his hair fell loose in dripping strands which he pushed back with a trembling hand.

“Don’t worry about me, Schatz,” murmured Caleb, “I was only in there for a minute, whereas you were in there for several. I am sorry I was not faster to find a safe way down to the shore and retrieve you.”

“I am sorry I n-needed r-rescuing,” grimaced Essek. “Thank you f-for s-saving me. I d-didn’t know you w-were a g-good swimmer.” His shivering was getting worse, if anything, and his chattering teeth were making it hard to talk.

Caleb began wringing his own hair out, then drying himself with the other end of the scarf. “We were pirates for a while,” he shrugged, “and I discovered that I really like the ocean. It’s…calming, I suppose. So vast it makes you feel insignificant, which makes your problems insignificant, just for a moment.”

“I h-have n-not spent much t-time by the s-sea,” admitted Essek, “and I h-hate swimming.”

Caleb chuckled. “You should talk to Veth, she’ll commiserate.”

Essek nodded, flexing his fingers again and wiggling his toes. He could only tell it was working from the movement of Caleb’s coat. He was so tired.

Caleb dropped the scarf and rubbed his hands together vigorously; Essek noticed his fingers were almost white. “We could really do with some fire, but I worry it would attract things that we are not equipped to fight,” Caleb worried, “and besides, I am not going to burn my spellbook, which means we would have to hope the moss is flammable while taking care not to set the whole cave ablaze. It has been a long time since I played with fire without magic. No, I don’t think fire is an option.”

“F-forgive me for m-my pessimism,” said Essek, biting his lip, “but h-how are we b-both g-going to s-stay warm with a single d-dry coat between us?”

A shadow seemed to pass over Caleb’s eyes, there and gone in an instant. “It should be no issue if you don’t mind some close contact.”

“A-at this p-point I’ll take it,” replied Essek.

Slowly and deliberately, Caleb rose to his feet and began gathering his scattered belongings, setting them out in neat rows a few feet from where Essek huddled. Essek’s waterlogged garments he spread out to dry over nearby patches of moss. When he was done, he retrieved his camping bedroll from his pack – a folded mat of felted wool treated to repel water – and spread it out next to Essek.

“Here,” Caleb offered, holding out a pair of dry socks. “I always carry a spare – I’m too used to my boots having holes in them. They’re clean, I promise.”

“Th-thank you,” shivered Essek, “although I’m a-a little s-stuck…”

“Ah – just a second…”

Caleb planted himself on the bedroll to pull on the socks that he’d discarded before diving into the lake, and then turned to Essek and began to open the coat again so that Essek could extract his feet and pull the socks on. Essek’s fingers could barely grip the fabric, but he managed after a few moments of struggling, mourning for the small amount of heat he’d been able to trap while bundled up like an egg.

As soon as he was done, Essek felt Caleb’s arms wrap around him and draw him down onto the bedroll. The sliver of cold coming in through the open front of the coat was replaced by the surprising heat of Caleb’s body, and Essek curled into it desperately, not even considering propriety or his usual reluctance to initiate physical contact. He’d learned, over the course of the last few months, that Caleb lived through casual touch – a shoulder brush here, a squeeze on the wrist there – and yet at the same time, not a single interaction was uncalculated. For so long, Essek had only been looking for the manipulative side to those interactions – a particular kiss on the forehead sprung to mind – but more and more he’d come to appreciate that Caleb’s touches were more than that; they were a point of connection, not just physically, but mind-to-mind. They were a reminder that neither of them were alone any more.

So Essek had come to accept and even appreciate Caleb’s casual intrusion of his personal space, breaking through yet another shell he’d built around himself. He had yet to engage in reciprocal activities – he didn’t know where to start, and felt he distinctly lacked the courage – but this was not untrodden ground between them. Essek repeated that in his mind as he curled up against Caleb’s chest, only two thin layers of damp clothing between them.

“Is this okay?” Caleb murmured close to his ear.

“If it’s okay w-with you,” Essek replied. Sandwiched between Caleb’s coat and Caleb himself, he was almost starting to warm up.

“Put your hands in my armpits – it would be hairy and gross without my shirt but with it they’re like little warm pockets,” Caleb suggested.

Essek hesitated, but slowly obliged, and Caleb was right – it did help. A dreadful thought occurred to him. “F-forgive me, but…have you…h-have you done this b-before?”

Caleb’s arms tightened a little around him, and Essek felt Caleb bury his nose in his shoulder. “Is it bad, that I am grateful for it right now? If it saves your life? It was terrible and cruel and inhumane, but for all that, I know how to stay alive through hypothermia.”

“I am not grateful th-that you experienced that,” murmured Essek, “but I am grateful for you.”

Caleb’s hands moved up and down Essek’s back under the coat, coaxing more warmth into him, and Essek closed his eyes in relief and exhaustion.

“Sleep,” Caleb suggested quietly, “or trance, whatever you like. I will keep an eye on your temperature. Our feet may freeze in the night, but as long as we are alive in the morning, healing potions will get us moving again. Rest.”

Cradled in Caleb’s arms, cold but getting warmer, Essek did just that.

Chapter Text

When Essek woke, it was to the groggy, disoriented realisation that he’d slept rather than tranced. He had no idea what time it was, and, as he slowly remembered where he was, he realised that there was no real way to tell.

Well. There was one way to tell. As Essek tilted his head back, he was met with the fire-blue eyes and warm smile of Caleb Widogast, whose arms still encircled him and whose body provided a welcome heat.

“Morning, Schatz,” Caleb murmured, eyes crinkling fondly. He looked tired.

“Did you sleep?” asked Essek. He shifted to give Caleb room to actually move, and a bolt of pain shot up his spine, causing him to hiss sharply. Suddenly he was aware that every muscle in his body ached, and the pain that he dealt with on a regular basis was more intense than it had been since the morning after that night, on the boat, and the lingering effects of paralysis combined with immense stress. He tried to hide his grimace, but Caleb had already seen it.

“Essek? Are you alright?” he asked in a voice laced with worry and barely-contained panic.

“Yes…yes, I am fine,” Essek insisted, though he could tell from the look on Caleb’s face that he wasn’t very convincing. Gritting his teeth, he began to extract himself from Caleb’s arms and sit up, wincing as his back protested heavily. “This happens…sometimes…it is not serious, just…inconvenient.” His knees pulsed with pain as he bent them, a strange and unfamiliar tingling sensation ricocheting down to his feet and back again.

“This is to do with what you told me before? Why you float?” Caleb questioned, sitting up too, his hands hovering close to Essek as if worried he might collapse.

Essek had shared that piece of information, a few weeks ago, when exhaustion had forced him to call for an earlier break, and he’d felt a bit silly, really, like he shouldn’t be making a big deal out of it. He’d been dealing with his inexplicable pain and fatigue for long enough that he knew how to manage it so that it did not affect his day-to-day functionality, usually. But now he was immensely grateful that he had at least mentioned it to Caleb, and that Caleb had remembered (of course he remembered) because he was not in a good mindset to explain it all again right now.

“Yes,” he said, leaning forward and trying to catch his breath, “exactly that. It is triggered by stress, sometimes, or overexertion.” He finished the statement with a sudden gurgling coughing fit, as some of the water that wasn’t expelled from his lungs yesterday decided to make itself known.

Caleb provided a steadying hand between his shoulder blades until he had finished hacking and dry-heaving, the human’s face the picture of concern. “How can I help? Do healing potions ease the pain?”

“Healing potions will not work in an arcana-dampening field,” Essek pointed out, trying to take deep breaths to ease the violent trembling in the wake of the coughing fit. If anything, his muscles hurt even worse now.

“Scheisse,” breathed Caleb, “I should have known that. Do you need heat, then? Or cold? A massage, or perhaps some space?”

Essek tried to force down the heat rising to his face at the thought of Caleb giving him a massage, and shook his head. “Lying still does not help. I should try to get moving, but slowly.” He shivered from the cold air at his back, and gritted his teeth as he tried to get his feet under him. It was a lot harder without levitation. His feet still felt partially numb.

Caleb took his arm without asking, lifting them both to their feet and waiting until Essek had caught his balance before letting go, bending down to retrieve his coat, then draping it round Essek’s shoulders.

“I couldn’t possibly…” began Essek.

“You need it more than I,” insisted Caleb, “and besides, I run hot. I will steal your robes and have them dry in no time.”

Essek pursed his lips. “I’m not sure…”

“You almost died, yesterday,” Caleb interrupted sharply, every line in his body tense. Essek froze too, staring as Caleb’s shoulders began to shake. “I wouldn’t have been able to teleport to Caduceus for healing. If you’d drowned, I might not have even found your body.”

“Caleb…”

“I spent last night counting your breaths until you stopped shivering. The tips of your ears were turning white, Essek, I spent an hour trying to get the blood flowing back into them. So please, let me make sure you’re alright. Let me make sure you’re not going to…leave…me.” His voice trailed off at the end, as if regretting baring so much of his feelings in that moment but not knowing how else to finish the sentence.

Essek felt a lump form in his throat, wishing nothing more than to reassure Caleb that he would always be here, and he wasn’t going anywhere – but he knew better than to make a promise he couldn’t keep, not to Caleb anyway. Instead, he willed his feet to close the distance between them, pushing his awkwardness aside to wrap his arms around Caleb and pull him close.

“As long as you want me here, I will try to stay,” he murmured in Caleb’s ear, and the words were neither the hopeful lie of a promise nor the bitter falsehood of an insincere reassurance. They were just truth. “I owe you my life, and a great deal more besides. I have no intention of leaving.” He pulled back slightly, just so that he could look Caleb in the eye again, and added with a lopsided smile, “I admit, I am unused to having someone fuss over me, and it is frustrating and endearing in equal measure. But if it makes you feel better, I will attempt to endure it with grace.”

Caleb chuckled, though it failed to mask the relief in his eyes. “It does make me feel better, to know that you are not suffering more than I can help, and I will try not to be too overbearing about it. I do not think I am suited to Veth’s role of Mother Hen.”

“Just do not make yourself a sacrifice, okay?” Essek said seriously, searching Caleb’s expression. “I cannot have you harming yourself on my account. Don’t freeze by keeping me warm.”

Caleb was the one to smile this time, dropping his hand to squeeze Essek’s fingers. “Don’t worry, I have gotten better at looking after myself. Besides, if I’m not around, who’s going to fish you out of freezing underground lakes?”

“I feel like I ought to make some comment about how I had it handled, but you and I both know that I very much did not,” said Essek, stepping back as Caleb moved to retrieve the damp robes and cloak, shrugging them on but not bothering with the fastenings. The sleeves were slightly too short on Caleb’s arms. Essek took the moment to wriggle properly into Caleb’s coat, and found that it was almost the right size, but the extra half-inch on the sleeves and across the shoulders made it feel even cosier.

Caleb hummed as he gathered their stuff, passing Essek his still-damp boots and slinging their one remaining pack over his shoulder. “Perhaps we should intercept the Nein Heroez next time it’s in Nicodranas and get Fjord to give you some swimming lessons,” he suggested. “There is no knowing when it might come in useful.”

Essek shuddered. “I…do not think I would enjoy that,” he muttered, pulling on his boots and ignoring the squelching between his toes. “My past experience with swimming lessons has been…less than pleasant.”

“I don’t know what your past experience was, but I assure you, Fjord is a patient teacher. He managed to teach Beau how to not come off as a total jerk, and that is quite some achievement,” Caleb commented. “Think on it, ja? It’s entirely your choice.”

“I will think on it,” promised Essek. The thought of the water scared him, but Caleb clearly loved the ocean, and…perhaps among friends, he might find the courage. Perhaps.

Caleb lastly retrieved his scarf, and straightened, offering Essek an arm. “Ready to go?”

“Lead the way,” replied Essek, taking the arm after only a moment’s hesitation and letting Caleb help him without a fuss. His hips and knees protested as he began to walk, excruciatingly stiff to begin with and gradually easing up, as Caleb led him up a half-collapsed walkway and into the far side of the tunnel they’d been trying to reach the day before.

They kept a slow but steady pace, Essek pausing to lean on Caleb and catch his breath every now and again, feeling the omnipresent pain slowly subside into a manageable ache. One hour passed, and then two. They paused in a sheltered wreck of some sort of communications hub to eat a pitiful amount of dry rations, and passed their one remaining water skin between them to wash it down. Every now and again, Essek would twitch his fingers in a cantrip, just to see whether magic had returned, and caught Caleb doing the same a number of times, but each time they would be disappointed.

The corridors snaked upwards, and into more technical-looking areas, where the rooms they passed were filled with strange mechanical components and criss-crossing wires. Caleb navigated, keeping them going in an approximately consistent direction. Sometime in the fourth hour, Essek swallowed his pride and his impatience to find a way out of this magic-free hellscape, and called for a break, where they spent half an hour sat against the wall in an alcove dedicated to a glass-fronted box filled with shelves containing the remnants of what could have once been food, although it was slightly hard to tell.

Essek was just about to suggest getting moving again, when there was a quiet clang and a shuffling noise far back where they’d come from. The two wizards shared an alarmed look.

“Should we hide…?” whispered Essek.

“This is not a very good spot, and it does not sound close,” whispered Caleb back, straining his ears for any more sounds. “We should get moving, quietly, and hope that it does not have our scent.”

Essek nodded and let Caleb pull him to his feet. As they began to sneak away, the sound was not repeated, and for a moment, Essek let himself believe that this was a problem they would manage to avoid.

Roughly half an hour later, they edged round a warehouse-sized room filled with an enormous construction which, based on the tiny wheels on its base, might have been a vehicle, though for what terrain neither of them could tell. It was as they passed the halfway point to a door on the other side that there was a sound of a disturbance back in the corridor they had come from, and they froze in unison, sharing a glance with bated breath.

The noise came again, and Caleb glanced around for hiding places as Essek eyeballed the distance to the far side of the room.

“If it can track us, I doubt we can hide,” Caleb whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

“Fast and quiet, then?” Essek replied.

“Are you up to it?”

Essek resented the question somewhat, but understood that Caleb was asking from a place of concern, not judgement. “I do not really have a choice, do I?” he breathed. “Come on, let’s move, before it’s too late.”

Trying to silence their footsteps, the wizards hastened across the enormous room and into the hallway on the other side, pushing forward with as much speed and stealth as they could find. As soon as they could, they veered sideways, beginning to put a convoluted path between themselves and whatever was behind them, hoping that with enough twists and turns it would lose itself before it caught up to them.

The whole time, they continued to listen. Fifteen minutes into their silent flight, they heard the clatter of something disturbed, closer behind them than they remembered, and picked up their pace.

Half an hour in, Essek was sweating profusely as his muscles seized and his back protested every step. He grabbed Caleb’s arm, not to slow them down, but to let the other wizard pull him along as they couldn’t afford to delay.

Every now and again they heard more noises, and never did they assume they were far enough ahead to rest. The noises seemed to follow them no matter which way they turned, so Caleb pointed them back in the direction they had been previously following in the hopes of finding the edge of the anti-magic zone, and they sped towards it, hoping against hope for a stroke of luck which might save them.

After more than an hour, Essek felt ready to collapse. Only Caleb’s arm held him up.

A sound not twenty feet behind them made them turn sharply, Caleb drawing his dagger and Essek brandishing a twisted piece of metal he’d scavenged to use as a bludgeoning weapon after he lost his crossbow with the rest of his things in the lake. Essek felt himself pale as they finally got a good look at the thing which had been pursuing them.

It was larger than a moorbounder and moved like one, prowling forward with its nose low to the ground, but its eyes were like saucers and its ears looked like they should belong on a rat, while its tail was more reminiscent of a lizard, except shaggy with the dark brown fur that covered its whole body. Its claws clicked along the ground as it walked, kicking aside rubble and fallen pieces of the ceiling, and its jaw was filled with rows of enormous pointed teeth.

Out of the corner of his eye, Essek saw Caleb swallow.

“Go for the eyes,” Caleb whispered, a tremble of fear in his voice. Essek nodded, feeling his heart accelerate in his chest. If this was the end, at least they would go down fighting. By the Light, he didn’t want this to be the end.

The creature lunged.

Chapter Text

The creature lunged.

Essek threw himself one way and Caleb dived the other, missing the beast’s jaws by a hair’s breadth. It spun, almost getting stuck in the narrow and partially-caved-in passageway, and Essek scrabbled to his feet and stumbled back, his mind blank with terror as it stalked towards him.

With a battle cry, Caleb leapt from the side and sunk his dagger into the beast’s neck, causing it to yowl in pain and spin again, knocking Caleb to the floor, his hand now coated in bright red beast-blood.

“Caleb!” yelled Essek in fear and surprise, shrugging off his moment of paralysis to throw himself at the backside of the creature and, in a move that he hoped would make Jester proud, sticking his improvised weapon up its butt.

It reared up with an ear-splitting yelp, turning away from Caleb’s prone form to tower over Essek and bring its body down with stunning force. Its front paws slammed into his chest and bore him to the ground, all the air leaving his lungs at once, several ribs cracking with the impact and the beast’s claws digging deep into the flesh of his shoulders. Essek would have screamed if he’d had the capacity in that moment; as it was, he brought his arms up defensively and turned his face away, waiting for the end.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM ASSHOLE!”

Caleb’s furious cry resonated through the narrow space and Essek opened his eyes just in time to see Caleb appear over the top of the creature as if he’d run up the back of it, lock his legs around its neck and sink his dagger into its eye. The crushing pressure on Essek’s chest released and he sucked in a wheezing, excruciating breath, scrabbling backwards and watching wide-eyed as the beast bucked wildly, trying to throw Caleb off. It slammed sideways into the wall and the wall buckled, part of the ceiling dropping a couple of feet lower, and then rolled the other way, pinning Caleb to the ground beneath its neck.

Caleb’s cry of pain made all of Essek’s hairs stand on end and he pushed himself to his feet just in time to see the creature roll upright again, the dagger still in its eye but Caleb now prone on the floor. Before Essek could react, its jaws snapped forward and closed around Caleb’s arm, dragging the human upright and almost into the air as it shook its head in a couple of small tossing motions, teeth crunching as it adjusted its grip. Caleb screamed this time, a sound of pure agony, and as blood poured out of the creature’s mouth and down his shoulder, Essek could see that Caleb was close to losing consciousness. Light above, he’d never even considered that perhaps he’d be the one to die second, and before that he’d have to watch the person he cared for most in the world ripped to shreds before his eyes.

He had to do something. This couldn’t happen. If his magic could have returned by sheer force of desperate need, he would have crumpled this beast to dust with a clench of his fist, but that wasn’t how these things worked; Caleb was on the brink, it was now or never, and if Essek chose never, he was pretty sure Veth would drag him back from the afterlife just to kick his ass and then kill him again.

His eyes landed on the weakened section of wall, which seemed to be holding up the ceiling by a prayer. Without thinking twice about it, Essek dashed towards it, turning his shoulder to the front and leapt, slamming into the metal with his entire body weight. It resisted for a fraction of a second, a fraction in which Essek felt hopelessness begin to curdle in his stomach, but just as white-hot pain shot through his left shoulder, he felt the metal give, and with a deafening creaking crash, the ceiling and everything above it came crashing down like an avalanche of demolition. Something slammed into the back of Essek’s neck and he was thrown forward, pinned by something heavy lying across his back.

As the sounds of wreckage faded, Essek strained and wriggled his way out from under the iron bar, stumbling to his feet and clutching his left shoulder, which didn’t feel the right shape – dislocated, maybe? Gritting his teeth with pain and frustration and overwhelming worry for Caleb, Essek grabbed his left forearm and lifted, screaming in agony when he felt his shoulder move, but persisting until he felt a pop as the joint settled back into place. That had been extremely unwise, he knew, but at least now he could bend his elbow and move his hand, even if he couldn’t lift the arm itself. He couldn’t afford to be handicapped when Caleb’s life might depend on it.

“Caleb? CALEB?” he called, picking his way over the rubble. He could see the large shaggy form of the beast, partially obscured by twisted metal and several stone blocks which seemed to have fallen from the floor above, but Caleb was nowhere to be seen.

A weak voice emanated from beneath a broad sheet of metal. “…Essek?”

“Hold on, Caleb, I’m coming!” Essek called, picking up his pace until he was right next to the creature’s head and he could lift the metal sheet with his right hand and shift it out of the way.

His heart almost stopped in his chest as he saw Caleb.

The human was pale as a ghost, lying flat on his back and staring up with unfocused eyes, his brow sheened with sweat and three-quarters of his arm still trapped within the mouth of the dead beast. Bright, shining blood covered his shoulder and oozed from a shallow gash in his forehead. Essek dropped to his knees.

“I’m here, Caleb, it’s over, it’s going to be alright, you’re going to be alright, just stay with me, please, please, stay with me…”

Caleb’s unfocused gaze landed on Essek’s desperate face, and his lips, pale as the rest of him, quirked up in the tiniest smile as he murmured something unintelligible.

“I’m going to get your arm out, okay? This is going to hurt, I am so sorry,” Essek rambled, seizing a chunk of stone and using it to force the beast’s teeth open and wedge it there, the effort leaving his muscles trembling. Immediately, blood gushed from the open mouth – Caleb’s blood, as Essek swallowed bile and used both hands to gingerly lift Caleb’s mangled arm off the teeth that had skewered it and set it carefully in his lap, hoping the elevation might slow the blood pouring out of it.

“Shit,” he muttered, seeing the way the tattered remains of Caleb’s sleeve stuck in his wounds, and drew the small knife that he kept at his belt. It wasn’t large enough to serve as a weapon, but it was sharp enough to slice cleanly through the fur-lined purple robes and the cream linen undershirt at the shoulder and then score a line directly down the sleeves so that Essek could peel them back and see the true extent of the damage underneath. He felt no loss at the destruction of the clothing – it was Essek’s robe after all, and it meant nothing to him compared to Caleb’s life.

Peeling back the fabric made Essek want to throw up. Amid the blood coating everything, he could see deep gouging bite marks from just above Caleb’s elbow all the way down to his hand. Bone was visible at his elbow and wrist, and two and a half of Caleb’s fingers were entirely missing, along with a good chunk of his hand.

“Shit,” breathed Essek again, peeling away the severed linen sleeve from the tattered purple-and-crimson wool and twisting it several times before wrapping it round the middle of Caleb’s upper arm and tying it as tightly as he possibly could. The skin turned even paler on either side as the blood was cut off, and Caleb let out a faint hiss of pain.

“I am sorry,” choked Essek, as he drew the knife again and cut the straps of the pack from Caleb’s back, pulling it towards him. It would be a pain to carry the pack now, until they fixed it, but he needed its contents.

Essek unwound the rope from where it was clipped to the outside and wound it twice around Caleb’s bicep, below the repurposed sleeve, pulling even tighter before tying it off. There was too much blood already to tell if the bleeding had slowed, and Essek felt a sob building in his chest.

“Caleb?” he asked, feeling a tear drip down his nose and onto his upper lip. “Caleb I don’t know what I’m doing. Please, don’t die. You told me not to leave you and I said I wouldn’t, don’t make me a liar, Caleb, please.”

With bloodstained fingers, Essek cupped the side of Caleb’s face, running his thumb over the freckled cheekbones, and watched as Caleb’s eyes half-opened, finding him after almost a second.

With trembling effort, Caleb brought his left hand up to cover Essek’s, fingers squeezing weakly. He shuddered and winced, mouthing the word “Sorry.”

“No…” choked Essek brokenly, pulling his hand back. “No, I refuse to give up that easily. You would not, if our positions were reversed. Please, just…hold on a little longer, Caleb. I refuse to give up now.”

Shivering with a combination of cold and shock, Essek shrugged off Caleb’s coat followed by his own cotton undershirt, wincing and hissing as he moved his previously-dislocated shoulder, before pulling the coat back on and drawing his knife once again. He soon found it was quicker just to rip the shirt into strips – he knew they had bandages in the healing kit, but nowhere near enough for this. He also knew it was best to clean a wound before binding it, but blood loss was going to kill Caleb far sooner than infection and right now, there was no time to spare.

Starting at the top, Essek stuffed the gaping, bloody bite-marks with fabric and then wound more strips round to secure them, apologising profusely as he accidentally shifted a broken bone, eliciting a whimper from Caleb. The mostly-white fabric turned red almost immediately, especially when Essek reached Caleb’s hand, where he had to bind the ragged hole where two and a half fingers used to be. That brought a painful lump to Essek’s throat. He understood deeply how much Caleb relied on his fingers as a caster and a wizard specifically. He hoped desperately that one of the clerics would be able to re-grow them.

That done, he wiped his bloody hands on one of the remaining rags and leaned over to gently unwind the scarf from Caleb’s neck and instead pillow it behind his head, giving him something more comfortable than rubble to lie on. Caleb’s breathing was shallow and unsteady, and his eyes were closed but Essek thought perhaps he was not unconscious, just conserving his strength.

“What else can I do?” murmured Essek to himself, hearing a faint note of hysteria in his own voice. “What am I supposed to do? What would Jester do? Know how to fix a wound for a start. Not be so squishy that she dislocates her own shoulder knocking down a wall. Be brave enough that that beast would never have caught you. I’m so sorry, Caleb. It would have bitten my head off and torn out my guts if you hadn’t distracted it. I think some of my ribs might be cracked, but that is hardly a scratch compared to what you endured, and it’s all thanks to you, and you’d probably argue that it’s not my fault that you’re lying here but feeling fifty percent responsible is bad enough.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Now I think I know something of how you felt last night. If this is payback, you’ve succeeded.”

A lump rose to his throat again and he distracted himself by pressing two fingers to Caleb’s neck. It took a few seconds for him to find the pulse, and when he did it was fast and butterfly-light.

“I don’t know what to do,” he sighed again, brushing Caleb’s hair gently back from his clammy forehead.

Caleb’s eyelids fluttered, not fully opening, and with a barely audible whisper he mumbled “Ess’k…”

“I’m here,” replied Essek, reaching for Caleb’s good hand and clasping it tightly. It was so cold. “I’m here, Caleb, I’ve got you.”

“Stay…”

Essek ran his thumb back and forth across the back of Caleb’s hand. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here with you, I promise. Would you…would you like it if I kept talking?” Perhaps it would help Caleb fight unconsciousness for a while longer.

“Yes,” Caleb breathed, his lips twitching in the ghost of a smile.

“Well, I do not have access to my spellbook, but I have my own introduction to the arcane almost perfectly memorised. It’s a book for children, and I was eight when it was gifted to me, and it starts like this…”

Essek did his best to recite the book, stumbling over a few passages but getting the general drift across. Caleb, for his part, lay perfectly still, the few small twitches in his expression the only thing that gave away his consciousness. Eventually, maybe an hour or more later, Caleb’s breathing seemed to even out slightly and the slight tension in his face drained away, and Essek let his voice fade, leaving just the eerie silence of Aeor behind.

Essek squeezed Caleb’s hand. “Sleep,” he murmured, glancing around and then back down at the unconscious human. “I’ll keep watch. Sleep.”

Chapter Text

He knew he was getting no rest tonight, not even a trance, so Essek settled to keeping a watch over Caleb, watching his breathing and keeping two fingers on the pulse at his wrist. He didn’t get any less pale as the hours passed, but he didn’t seem to worsen either, and the blood soaked through the bandages around his arm slowly dried into a coarse, stiff solid in Essek’s lap. To pass the time, Essek began mentally cataloguing the material components of his spells, trying to remember how much of everything he would have to replace having lost his pack at the bottom of the lake. He had components for the spells he’d prepared two mornings ago in his wristpocket, provided he would regain access to those contents when magic reasserted itself, but that was far from his full arsenal, and there were also various ritual components that he usually carried in his bag.

He could only distract himself with meaningless admin for so long. His mind drifted to the rest of the Mighty Nein, what they’d say if they could see the two of them now, how much better each one of them would be in this situation than Essek, how much he longed for their love and support. They would share his fear and pain and dread, and in doing so, not lessen it, but make it easier to bear, perhaps. They would sit with him as he counted Caleb’s heartbeats, and he would know that even if those heartbeats ceased, he was not alone. But if Caleb died now, leaving Essek entirely alone in Aeor, Essek didn’t know what he’d do, and whether he’d look inside himself and find the will and perseverance to survive. He hoped so, for the sake of all those he’d come to care for.

If he could, he would drag Caleb’s body to somewhere he could use magic, teleport them both to the Blooming Grove, and beg Caduceus’ Wildmother to return him. But if Essek ran into another foe he could not beat, it would be morbidly poetic if his and Caleb’s corpses wound up frozen side-by-side for eternity, or perhaps in the belly of the same beast. Dynasty and Empire, working together at last. It reminded Essek somewhat of a fictional tale Jester shared with him once, he couldn’t remember the details.

Eight hours into his vigil, Essek opened Caleb’s pack and found some dry rations to chew on. He drank the water sparingly, knowing that it may need to last a while yet. As he was returning the water to the bag, he spotted the healer’s kit and realised that while it might be frighteningly futile to use it on Caleb, he might gain some benefit using it on himself.

Over the next hour, Essek rubbed a numbing salve for bruises over his aching ribs, which were turning a delightful green colour against his purple skin, and after several failed attempts, folded himself a sling for his left arm which blessedly relieved his shoulder.

Four hours passed, and then four more. Essek could feel his eyelids drooping from how long he’d been awake, but he couldn’t trance and risk missing some change in Caleb’s condition. He nibbled some more rations, and carefully weighed the water skin in his hand before taking only a very little sip, despite how dry his mouth was.

The hours stretched into a full day, and still Caleb slept, his condition unchanged, although a couple of times Essek wondered if it was false hope projecting a touch of colour in Caleb’s cheeks. Essek’s muscles seized and pounded with agony but he remained still as a statue, determined not to disturb Caleb. Twenty-four hours stretched into thirty, although by this point Essek had mostly lost track, and sometime shortly after that, Caleb finally stirred.

His breathing changed first, speeding up from its slow, metronomic pace into something more anxious, and then pale eyelashes fluttered, and a mouth opened – “Nott? D’we get beat up las’night? Ow…”

“Veth isn’t here,” Essek grimaced, “it’s just me. Caleb? Do you know where we are?”

With a groan, Caleb opened his eyes fully, blinking up at the ceiling before finding Essek and focusing on him with far more clarity than he’d had the day before. Momentary confusion crossed his features, before melting rapidly into understanding, relief, and unguarded…affection?

“Aeor,” he said quietly, his voice a little hoarse. “Essek…”

“That’s my name,” Essek agreed as Caleb paused, gathering his words.

“…I’m alive. I… I feel like utter shit, but I’m alive.” There was a note of wonder in his voice. “…Thank you.”

“I believe stubbornness is a trait you and I share,” replied Essek, ducking his head with a hesitant smile.

“Did you…how long have I been unconscious?” A vulnerable look crept across Caleb’s face, and Essek realised the last few hours must have seriously messed up Caleb’s internal clock – and being underground, there was no easy way to calibrate it again.

“Thirty hours, give or take,” said Essek, wishing he had a more precise number. “I do not have your skill for keeping track, I am sorry.”

Caleb was silent for a moment. Then, “That’s a long time.”

“I will admit, it was…nerve-wracking.” Honestly, Essek had wondered towards the end whether Caleb had actually slipped into a coma and was never going to wake up.

“I…” Caleb paused for a long second, “…I thought I saw my parents.”

The promise of tears pulsed behind Essek’s eyes and he forced it back with a will. “They are not going anywhere. They will be waiting for you when you are ready to join them. But you are not joining them yet – you still have too much to do here.”

Caleb coughed dryly. “The way I feel, I won’t be doing much of anything for a while. Gods.”

“Nor would I let you,” added Essek, “you’ve lost more blood than I knew a body had, and you’re paler than Yasha. You’re going to let me take care of everything for a while, until we find a way out of this place and teleport to Caduceus. Now, would you like some water?”

“Just a little, danke,” said Caleb.

Caleb took the water in his good hand and Essek helped him raise his head a couple of inches to drink just a few sips before handing it back.

“Not much left in that,” Caleb observed.

“Haven’t had a chance to fill it up,” reminded Essek, “but as soon as we get moving, we can keep an eye out for meltwater.”

Caleb’s eyes flickered over Essek, taking in the sling and the bags under his eyes. “You look like death warmed up, so I don’t know what that says about me. Are you sure we’ll be able to go anywhere?”

“I am not too hurt,” assured Essek, rubbing his shoulder self-consciously and feeling the now-familiar twinge of pain. “If you cannot walk, I will try to construct a litter to drag you. We cannot stay here forever.”

“Unfortunately, I do not think I can walk,” confirmed Caleb with a grimace, “I am not sure, but when the beast-thing rolled, it might have broken my leg. Right side, near the hip. Hurts almost as much as my arm, although currently my arm is mostly numb. Doesn’t feel out of place or anything though.”

“Shit,” breathed Essek. He hadn’t checked Caleb for injuries other than the arm. It simply hadn’t occurred to him. This is why Jester would have been so much better in his position. “I can look at it now…?”

“Sure,” said Caleb, waving his good hand towards his leg in acceptance.

Essek carefully peeled open the purple robes to expose Caleb’s trousers, which were thick and furred on the inside. He wasn’t keen on the idea of peeling back those as well, partly because he feared it would make Caleb’s leg injury worse. Instead, he looked the leg up and down, noticing no strange angles, although his right thigh could have been a bit swollen. Tentatively, Essek touched the outside of the swollen part, looking back at Caleb’s face.

“Around here?” he asked.

Caleb hissed as his fingers put slight pressure on a particular spot. “Ja, right there. I have not broken many bones but I recall the feeling.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to splint it that that won’t make it worse,” Essek admitted. “Perhaps I just make sure the stretcher does not jostle it too much?”

Caleb took a deep breath, looking resigned. “I am so sorry, Essek. Putting myself in reckless danger is quite out of character for me, as you know, and now I am putting you in danger for as long as you stay by my side.”

“You saved my life, Caleb,” Essek said gently, “I would be dead if you hadn’t distracted it. But we have come far past counting favours. I promised that as long as you would have me, I would be here, and I have no intention of leaving now.” Carefully, he pulled the robes closed again and took Caleb’s hand, squeezing once.

Caleb squeezed weakly back and offered a small smile. “You are better than I deserve,” he murmured.

Essek laughed sharply. “Not at all, Widogast, not at all.”

“Well…thank you,” Caleb sighed, “and it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me how fucked my arm is. I probably wouldn’t tell me either.”

“Do you…” Essek frowned, “do you want to know?”

“I have to admit, I am somewhat curious, in a morbid sense.”

Essek nodded, and glanced down at the arm in his lap, completely swathed in makeshift bandages caked in blood. “Let’s just say Caduceus has his work cut out for him. You…may be missing a couple of fingers.” Caleb sucked in a breath between his teeth, and Essek continued, “I had to cut off the circulation to stop the bleeding, I didn’t know what else to do, so that might become a problem too.”

“Whatever you did, it kept me alive,” pointed out Caleb. “Whatever happens, there’s no point thinking further ahead than getting out of here. Is there anything you need me to do?”

Essek looked around. “I need to scavenge materials. If I move your arm to your side, will you be okay to stay here and wait? I won’t go far.”

Caleb quirked an eyebrow. “I think I can manage that.”

It took a good half hour; Caleb kept track and offered semi-jovial commentary for the first fifteen minutes, then zoned out to conserve energy, leaving Essek to finish assembling the makeshift stretcher alone. He couldn’t find any bars of reasonable length in the rubble to use as rigid sides to string fabric between, though he spent a long time looking, so he finally contented himself with tying his cloak that Caleb had been wearing and Caleb’s coat that he had been wearing end-to-end, with the coat sleeves in a position for him to hold and drag the whole thing along. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it would get them moving.

As he had used his shirt to make bandages, this left Essek bare from the waist up and shivering in the cold. He ought to get moving soon and hope that the exertion warmed him. A familiar pang of self-consciousness asserted itself, especially as he glanced down at the rainbow of bruises across his chest, but that didn’t matter – there was no one but Caleb here to see him.

He returned to Caleb and knelt. “Caleb. I have done my best, and it is far from ideal but I think it has potential to get us out of here. Are you ready?”

Caleb cracked one then both eyes open, and then stared. “Essek, your chest…”

Essek winced. “Don’t worry about that. I have the stretcher here.”

“I didn’t know drow could turn those colours,” Caleb muttered, before eyeing the stretcher and saying, “well, it looks like it’ll work, if you’re up to dragging it – and me. I am heavier than I look, according to Beau.”

“I recall, having dragged you several times in battle,” Essek reminded him. “I am certain I can do it.”

Caleb’s smile had a hint of challenge in it. “Very well, then.”

After some careful manoeuvring, they managed to get Caleb onto the coats, gritting his teeth for most of it but diligently not complaining. It wasn’t easy to get out from the radius of rubble surrounding the collapsed ceiling, but Essek cleared a pathway out the way they had come, and gripping the coat sleeves with his good arm, began to drag Caleb down the corridor.

They didn’t retrace their steps far, instead veering off at the first intersection in the hopes of finding their way back in the direction they’d been travelling. Caleb bore the slow, uncomfortable journey in stoic silence, cradling his wounded arm awkwardly with his good one to protect it from the jostling and occasionally giving directions to correct Essek’s course. Essek, for his part, warmed up quickly at the strenuous physical exercise, to a temperature that he wasn’t sure was healthy; the surface of his skin felt cold with sweat but his insides were burning, his heart hammering so hard and fast it made his breath jittery. It probably didn’t help that he’d had no rest since they’d left the lake cave, almost forty-eight hours ago.

No other beasts attacked them as they travelled, which Essek was beyond grateful for. He wondered if the one he’d killed considered this region as its territory, which would explain the quiet. In spite of his exhaustion, he pushed on, even when the edges of his vision became blurry with tiredness and his pace slowed to a crawl. How much further did this anti-magic field extend?

His answer came sooner than he imagined. Quite abruptly, they reached the end of a stretch of path and turned to see a familiar chasm spanning the way before them. It wasn’t identical to the place they’d crossed before – that would have been too much – but they had clearly found another section of the rift. It must have been an enormous rift to stretch the distance they’d travelled.

“Well, at least we know this area doesn’t go on forever,” observed Caleb, his neck craning to see the rift from his horizontal position. “How are you holding up, Essek?”

Rather than reply, Essek dropped the coat sleeves, took two steps back towards Caleb and let his legs go to jelly under him, collapsing into a cross-legged position and folding in pain, finally acknowledging the agony in his hips and back. His breathing came in rasping gulps of air that felt like sandpaper against his lungs, and he was shivering violently, first from the exertion of his muscles but increasingly from the cold as his body temperature dropped and left him sweaty and freezing.

Caleb’s hand brushed his knee and he raised his head from his hands, feeling the world spin as he did.

“You need to rest,” Caleb told him with a concerned look.

“We’re so close,” rasped Essek, “I can’t…we’re so close.”

Caleb glanced towards the chasm and back at Essek. “I wasn’t paying much attention, but…did you spot any rubble or promising bridge material in any of the recent passages?”

Essek swallowed, and it tasted like blood in the back of his throat. “I didn’t really see.”

“Do you think there’s any way out of this region that doesn’t involve crossing this ravine?” Caleb asked frankly.

Essek shook his head. “The barrier seemed to be close to the midpoint last time. I think the two things are connected.”

“I agree,” said Caleb, falling quiet and thinking for a moment. “I have an idea. Just humour me on this, okay?”

“Okay?”

“In the left outside pocket of the pack there should be a translucent rod.”

Not bothering to get up, Essek leaned over and dragged the pack over to himself. He’d haphazardly fixed the straps so he could carry it over his good shoulder, and there was a damp patch where it had sat against his skin. He found the pocket and located the rod easily.

“What do I do with this?” he asked, looking back to Caleb.

“It’s called a celebone. Twist it, then toss it off the edge. Aim just short of the far side, and tell me what happens, I’m curious.”

“Very well.”

Essek pushed himself painstakingly to his feet and hobbled over to the edge, trying not to look down into the unfathomable depths. Sceptically, he twisted the rod, then tossed it. His throw was weak, and the rod didn’t even come close to the far side, but with the momentum it had it dived into the depths, and as it crossed the approximate midpoint, Essek gasped as it suddenly burst into dazzling coloured lights.

“Huh,” he said, “That is a…curious magical item.”

“It went off when it passed the barrier?”

“Yes.”

Caleb breathed heavily behind him. “I have a plan.”

Chapter Text

“This is a terrible plan.”

After listening to Caleb’s idea, collapsed on the stone ledge side-by-side, Essek was not impressed. He continued, “Any plan that involves jumping off a cliff of unknown height into impenetrable darkness with no magic at our disposal is the definition of a bad plan.”

“The celebone did not hit the floor, did it?”

“No, it fell until it was out of sight.”

“In that case, we are not going to splat. All we need is a little momentum. It’s physics, Essek, you know it’ll work.”

“You are relying on one of us being able to cast Teleport while in free-fall. Those are not good odds to risk our lives on!”

“And yet between the two of us, there is no reason why it should be impossible,” argued Caleb. “We are both in rough shape, but neither of us has expended any magic today – we have the spells available.”

“In theory,” insisted Essek, “but what if we don’t? What if we cross that barrier and find we have no spells left?”

“The celebone worked.”

“The celebone is vastly different to a Teleport spell.”

“Well how else do you propose we get across?” Caleb asked, turning his head to stare Essek down.

Essek gulped. Caleb was a stubborn, brilliant man, and honestly…Essek knew his idea was a good one. It was just the miniscule chance that it would fail that scared him more than he could express. But the Mighty Nein’s success hadn’t been built on caution, and sometimes, every option was a bad option.

He met Caleb’s eyes unflinchingly and asked, “Are you certain this will work? We only get one shot.”

Caleb’s eyes shone with determination as he replied, “Never one hundred percent. But certain enough.”

Essek closed his eyes with resignation. “Very well. You know I am not one to pray, but may the Light be with us.”

Ten minutes later, they stood leaning against each other at the edge of the rift. The pack was on Essek’s back again, the makeshift stretcher rolled up and draped over the top of it, and Caleb’s left arm was draped heavily round his shoulders while his right arm was wrapped tightly round Caleb’s waist. Caleb had nearly passed out several times as Essek had half-lifted him to his one good leg, and Essek hadn’t mentioned that he’d almost passed out himself from the effort. But now they stood, their toes brushing the edge of the stonework, ready to risk everything to get out of here.

By the Luxon, Essek was terrified.

“Ready?” asked Caleb.

“On three,” said Essek, trying not to show how much his voice was shaking. It was no use – Caleb could feel him trembling right there anyway. “One…two…three.”

On three, he bent his knees, gritting his teeth against the spike of pain in his legs, and pushed off in a standing jump. Caleb aided as much as he could, but Essek’s hand clenched hard in the fabric of Caleb’s robes as they fell forward into nothingness, pulling the human with him. Whatever happened, they couldn’t be separated.

Their forwards momentum had been weak, and it was a good two seconds before Essek felt the strange pulse of the edge of the field break over him. By that time, the wind was howling past their ears and Caleb’s hair was whipping in his face and they’d lost all control of up and down. Essek opened his mouth to speak the word for Teleport, and his voice died in his throat, choked back by primal terror. Through the darkness and the whipping hair, he saw Caleb open his mouth to try, but he also saw Caleb’s eyes beginning to glaze over, the shock of the fall taking its toll on his body, and Essek knew he couldn’t let Caleb lose concentration or fall unconscious. Screwing his eyes shut, he reached out with his mind and searched those potential futures for the one where they succeeded, and as soon as he spotted it, he grabbed, yanking it into existence with immaterial hands.

Immediately, a fresh wave of exhaustion punched all the wind from his chest, just as he saw Caleb’s eyes clear and the spell complete.

Gravity spun, the way it always did with a Teleport, and then suddenly it felt like something impacted his whole body, sending an indistinct jolt of crushing pain through his limbs and spine. As the world spun again, redirecting from the misfire, Essek felt Caleb’s grip on him loosen and instinctively tightened his own.

Then, suddenly, they were in the air just five feet above the ground but falling with a velocity that suggested a much further drop. As Essek tried to fold himself under Caleb, he felt his left shoulder impact the ground with an excruciating pop, closely followed by the rest of his body, and he screamed in pain.

Caleb fell like a ragdoll, tumbling first on top of Essek then rolling limply onto the soft, mossy ground.

“Caleb? CALEB!” Essek cried as he pushed himself up dizzyingly, barely registering Caleb’s lack of response before yanking a healing potion from the pack, uncorking it with his teeth and tipping it unceremoniously into Caleb’s mouth with a trembling hand.

Caleb swallowed, and after a pulse-pounding moment, stirred without opening his eyes. “Owwww…”

Only then did Essek glance around, breathing an enormous sigh of relief when he recognised their location. The Blooming Grove, near to the Wildmother’s pool. Not too far from the house.

“Stay here and don’t move,” ordered Essek, “I’m going to get help.”

Getting to his feet was complicated by the fact that his entire body hurt so much that he almost passed out from pain multiple times. Ignoring the fact that his shoulder was dislocated again – he was still wearing the sling, which made it fractionally bearable – he limped and stumbled his way through the trees, spotting the house after only a couple of minutes.

“Help!” he called, as soon as it was visible. Raising his voice made black dots swim in front of his eyes. “Help!”

The door opened, and Clarabelle came running out, closely followed by Caduceus. Caduceus was the first to spot Essek, pointing and yelling something, but by this point, all sound had been replaced by a ringing in Essek’s ears, and it seemed as if Caduceus reached him between one blink and the next, saying something unintelligible and reaching out to steady him.

“Caleb…by the pool…” he said faintly, and that was the last thing he remembered.

Chapter Text

Essek woke in cool darkness, a pounding in his head and a throbbing in his shoulder and across his ribs. Soft sheets covered him, and the pillow beneath his head was luxuriously fluffy, and despite the persistent ache making itself known in his lower back, part of him wanted to stay there forever.

That wasn’t going to work, though. He had to see Caleb. Had the Clays found him? Had Caduceus been able to heal him?

Stiffly, Essek rolled into a sitting position, his legs – still in his Aeor trousers – dangling over the side of the bed. His left arm was in a fresh sling, and as he looked down at his bare chest, he saw that the ugly rainbow bruising had faded into nothing more than outlines. Tentatively, he prodded it. It still felt tender, like the muscles between his ribs had been stretched too far. Better than it had been before.

He stood, feeling polished wood beneath his bare feet, and stretched, cracking his hips and spine audibly. He didn’t feel dizzy. That was nice.

It was dark, but he could still see perfectly well to find the door, and inched it open just a fraction before pulling it wider, finding the rest of the house dimly lit and filled with the comforting smell of smoke from a wood-burning fire. Essek stepped out into the living room – familiar from his previous stay here with the Mighty Nein – and cleared his throat hesitantly, prompting the figure half-hidden by the largest armchair to turn, peering round at him.

“Ah,” smiled Corrin, eyes crinkling in a wrinkled, kindly face. “If you’re looking for Mr Caleb, he’s in Caduceus’ room. He woke up half an hour ago – the kids won’t leave him alone. You should tell them to give him a bit of space.” She winked, and turned back to the fire.

“Thank you,” replied Essek, taking a step towards the room he knew to be Caduceus’ before remembering that he has access to his magic here, and he doesn’t need to torture himself. He floated the rest of the way, wishing he’d thought to ask for a shirt first, arriving at the half-open door to Caduceus’ room where he’s met with the familiar sound of jovial voices trying their best not to be too loud or disturbing. He wouldn’t have recognised that tone before knowing the Mighty Nein.

He knocked on the doorframe to be polite, rather than just sticking his head round the door, but immediately someone yelled, “Come in!” and he glided hesitantly past the threshold, taking in the scene.

In the centre of the room, in a bed that made him look surprisingly small, sat Caleb, propped on pillows which were white enough to reassure Essek that there was at least some colour in Caleb’s cheeks by comparison. His hair was braided back neatly, the grime of Aeor cleaned away, and he was wearing a loose cotton shirt with the right sleeve rolled up to the shoulder to accommodate the heavy bandages swathing his arm, which was in a sling like Essek’s. In his good hand he held a steaming cup of tea.

Leaning against the bedpost, also sipping from a teacup, was Caduceus, his hair a brighter pink than Essek had ever seen it, his posture relaxed. As for the other two occupants of the room, Calliope was sprawled out on the end of the bed, just past Caleb’s feet, and Clarabelle was cross-legged in the armchair, leaning forward to see Essek’s arrival. They had clearly been in the middle of an engaging conversation when Essek barged in.

Caleb looked up, though, and his expression of being somewhat overwhelmed melted into relief and a soft smile. “Essek.”

“Um. Hi,” Essek said awkwardly, looking from firbolg to firbolg. Calliope was being anything but subtle as she looked his bare torso up and down critically.

Caduceus smiled and pushed off the bedpost, straightening. “Good to see you up and about. You’ve been asleep for over a day, we were getting worried.”

“Do you want a cup of tea? I think there’s still some in the pot,” offered Clarabelle.

“I’m going to get you a shirt,” said Caduceus, putting his own cup of tea down and crossing to a tall oak wardrobe, “hope you don’t mind if it’s a little on the large side.”

“Caleb was telling us all about the weird things you guys saw in Aeor,” grinned Calliope, “it sounds awesome. I think you should go to Molaesmyr next, that’s supposed to contain all sorts of secrets. I could come with you!”

“Sure, make your very first adventure to Molaesmyr, a place that’s only so mysterious because no one ever comes back from there,” Clarabelle rolled her eyes, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Second adventure, actually,” corrected Calliope, sticking her tongue out.

“And that first one went so well,” chimed in Caduceus, and it took Essek a second to realise he was being sarcastic. Calliope stuck her tongue out at him too.

“Well I want to see the Menagerie Coast properly,” said Clarabelle, folding her arms, “the ocean is beautiful and it’s not fair that Caduceus got to be a pirate and I didn’t. I’d be a much better pirate.”

“On that, at least, we can agree,” said Caduceus, approaching Essek with a loose silk shirt. “Try this on, it may be a bit drapey but at least it’ll be comfortable. Do you need any help with the sling?”

“Um…” Essek said, taking the shirt and sympathising heavily with Caleb’s situation for the last half hour. The Clay siblings were…a lot, when combined. And this wasn’t even all of them.

“Why don’t I go check on the kettle?” said Caduceus with a knowing look, “leave you and Caleb to catch up? Come on, you two idiots. You don’t need to be in here.” He gave firm glances to both his sisters, who rolled their eyes and made noises of protest but followed him out nevertheless. He pulled the door half-closed on his way out, and suddenly Essek was left alone with Caleb, in silence.

“Um…” he said again, suddenly self-conscious, his hand clenched around the silk shirt tightly.

Caleb’s lower lip trembled, and he put down his cup of tea and held out his good arm beseechingly. “Come here, Essek.”

Essek glided across the room and allowed Caleb to pull him up onto the bed, bury his face in his shoulder and burst into tears. Essek felt a lump in his throat and a pressure behind his eyes too, though he couldn’t fathom why. He just wrapped his arm around Caleb and moved his hand up and down comfortingly, burying his own face in Caleb’s hair as his own tears began to fall.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, though he couldn’t have said what ‘it’ was in the moment. “We made it, we’re here. I’ve got you.”

Caleb pressed his nose into Essek’s neck with a sniffle. It took a while for his sobs to subside, but as they died away he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Essek took a deep, shaking breath to calm himself. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Caleb.”

“This wasn’t my plan, you know. To cry on you as soon as you woke up.”

“That is alright – clearly, you needed it, and I think perhaps I did too. We have been through a lot.”

“You saved my life. You got us out of there.”

“Not without your help. Besides, I said we’re far past counting favours and I meant it.”

Caleb sucked in a trembling lungful of air, and exhaled, some of the tension leaving him. He pulled back from Essek slightly, and asked, “How are you doing?”

“Better, for all that sleep,” Essek said truthfully, offering a small smile. “Aching, quite a bit, but better. You?”

“Not on the brink of death,” said Caleb dryly. “That’s a definite bonus.”

“What about your arm?” asked Essek, nodding to the sling. “And your leg?”

Caleb made a face. “Caduceus was going to explain that, then his sisters descended like a herd of cats. I was awake longer than you yesterday, but Constance gave me some kind of knockout tea when they realised that healing spells weren’t fixing everything.”

Before Essek could reply, the door creaked, and Caduceus poked his head round. “I heard my name. There’s tea.”

“Come in,” said Caleb with a knowing look, and Caduceus closed the door behind him, carrying a tray with three fresh teacups on it and a plate of biscuits.

Essek was suddenly aware again that he was yet to put on the shirt. “Ah…give me a moment…” He ducked his head out from the sling, feeling his shoulder twinge at the movement, and found the correct holes in the shirt. Getting his left arm in was a little awkward – the shoulder was better than it was, but he still found he couldn’t raise his arm more than sixty degrees from his body. The shirt was very loose and he had to roll the sleeves up a fair bit, but it was comfortable and he felt better as he shrugged the sling back on gratefully.

The moment he was done, Caduceus put a cup of tea in his good hand. It smelled delicious.

Caduceus pulled up the chair that Clarabelle had previously been sitting on and settled in with his own mug. “I apologise for myself and my siblings earlier. We got a little carried away, and I didn’t get around to answering your questions. But it might be better that Essek is here for this too – saves explaining it twice. So. Ask away.”

Caleb looked down and picked at the bandages smothering his hand. Essek noticed that it was not the right shape for all four fingers. “Um. I feel a little awkward saying this, but usually your healing fixes…everything. Why is it different this time?”

“Hmm,” nodded Caduceus, sipping his tea. “It doesn’t come up often, but healing has something of a timer on it. Similar to resurrections, but a bit more…wishy-washy. The longer you go without healing, the less the body remembers what shape it was, and the more it focuses on healing forward. After about a day, it becomes a little harder to cure wounds, and for injuries as grievous as the ones you sustained…” Caduceus took another sip of his tea, looking troubled. “It should be possible to heal you completely, including growing back your fingers. There’s a spell, Regenerate, which I can do a couple of times a day if I don’t do anything else big. I’ve never done it before, but as far as I can tell it’s supposed to just fix everything. I tried it this morning, and it…didn’t. I think it’s confused by the fact that most of your arm is still there, but being cut off from the blood supply for so long caused the limb to essentially die. I’m warming it up again bit by bit.”

Essek felt himself pale at the word ‘die’. That was his fault – he’d cut off the circulation to Caleb’s arm, and he’d known (mostly) what he was doing. But if he hadn’t, Caleb would have died. It wasn’t as if he’d had a choice, right?

Caduceus’ eyes fixed him with a knowing look. “Don’t blame yourself. You saved his life, there’s no doubt about that.”

Essek flushed, looking away, but Caleb’s hand touched his knee and he glanced up again.

“It’s going to be alright.” He looked to Caduceus. “Right?”

“Absolutely,” Caduceus nodded serenely.

“And what about Essek?” Caleb asked, his hand still resting on Essek’s knee.

“Ah. Yes.” Caduceus met Essek’s eyes. “You were suffering from one of the worst cases of exhaustion I’ve ever seen. It’s no wonder you slept so long. You’ll need another good rest before you’re back to normal, I reckon. As for your shoulder, well, it’s what I said about old injuries. Have you hurt it before?”

“I dislocated it when we were attacked but managed to fix it myself. I injured it a second time when we teleported.” Essek finally took a sip of his tea. It warmed him from the inside and settled some of his nerves.

“That might explain it, then. I’ll spare as much healing as I can for it, but it may be a little delicate for a while anyway.”

“That’s alright,” sighed Essek. “I get the impression we’re taking a bit of a break for a while.”

“And what about my leg?” asked Caleb, “Am I stuck in bed or will it take my weight?”

“Neither,” smiled Caduceus, “you mentioned it had already been broken before you landed in the garden and made it worse, so I wouldn’t want to risk walking too soon and undoing all the healing that’s been done, but you can probably put a small amount of weight on it – remember Dagen?”

“Of course,” said Caleb, as Essek nodded.

“We have a lot of elderly and frail folk come visit us, so I invested in a much simpler version of his chair, for visitors. Corrin uses it sometimes – her joints give her pain ever since the Menagerie. It should get you up and about, and the wheels are fine in the garden.”

“And if you are impatient, you could cast Fly,” suggested Essek.

Caleb chuckled. “Sure, that works. I might have some problems with a few other spells, but Fly I can do.”

“Well I’ll bring the chair in, and then you can decide,” said Caduceus, standing and stretching.

As he left the room, Essek took a couple of gulps of tea and put his cup down. “I can help with organising your spell components and suchlike, if you want – make them easier to retrieve with your left hand.”

Caleb grimaced. “That is not so much of a problem as the fact that I usually make notes as I prepare spells, and I cannot write left-handed. I have tried on previous occasions, and it did not work. Half of the spells I still have prepared from several days ago involve two-handed somatic components, which means I cannot cast them now, but I cannot prepare new ones in their stead.”

“I could help with that, too,” offered Essek. “You could dictate. I’m at least passingly familiar with enough of your spells that I think I could follow your thought process, well enough to document it at least.”

“What about you?” asked Caleb. “Have you checked your wristpocket?”

Essek straightened in surprise. “No, I had not thought to do that yet.” He flicked his wrist, and the familiar weight of his spellbook fell into his hand. He let out a sigh of relief at the sight of it, flicking through some of the more recent pages before dismissing it again. “That is good to know, but I don’t think I’d be able to concentrate on spells at this moment.”

“Still processing?” asked Caleb knowingly.

“Still processing,” Essek agreed, his fingers brushing Caleb’s arm before finally finding the confidence to take his hand and squeeze. With a sigh, he settled back into the pillows next to Caleb and curled his knees up to his chest. “Do you…want to talk about it?”

“Only if you do.”

“Maybe…later. Not now.”

“Sure.” Caleb let his head fall onto Essek’s shoulder, his hair tickling Essek’s neck. “What do you want to do now?”

Essek was quiet for a long moment. “I…”

The door creaked, and Caduceus’ mother, Constance Clay, leaned in backwards to shove it fully open with her heel. “Don’t mind me!” she said with a broad smile as she dragged a slender-framed chair on wheels back into the room. “Just dropping this off! Took me a while to find it, Corrin left it behind the bathroom door, I told her she shouldn’t leave it where someone could trip or we might end up with more broken legs than one chair can handle. Caddy got swept up in preparing a late supper – you’re both welcome to join us, of course, or eat in here, just as you please. It should be ready in ten minutes or so.”

“Thank you, you are very gracious,” replied Caleb, straightening a little in politeness.

“Yes, thank you,” echoed Essek.

Constance backed the chair into the space next to the bedside table and scooted out from around it. “Now, now, you’re practically family here,” she said, looking between both of them. “What should I tell the other kids, then? Are we setting the table for nine?”

Before either could answer, there was a loud clatter that sounded through the door and a shout of surprise that sounded like Caduceus, followed by an unexpected but familiar shrill voice.

“WHERE’S CALEB? WHERE’S MY BOY?”

Chapter Text

“WHERE’S CALEB? WHERE’S MY BOY?”

Caleb’s eyes widened and he sat up further, dropping Essek’s hand to push himself up on the pillows. Essek shoved away his feeling of disappointment at the loss of warmth as Caleb breathed, “Veth?”

Caduceus appeared at the open door just in time to get out the words, “I’m sorry-” before a halfling-shaped blur sped past his legs and round the bed, angling to throw herself at Caleb for a hug.

“Aaaaah…” Caleb flinched and threw out his good hand, bringing Veth to a skidding halt. “Be gentle, bitte. I am even more squishy than usual today.”

“You’re hurt!” exclaimed Veth indignantly, promptly rounding on Essek. “Who did this? Who do I have to kill? Caduceus, can’t you heal him?”

“Well it’s not quite that simple,” said Caduceus apologetically from the doorway. “Yussa sends his regards, by the way.”

“How…how are you here?” asked Caleb, unable to fight a smile off his face, reaching over to finally embrace Veth, who climbed onto the bed beside him to be able to properly wrap her arms around his neck. “I take it Yussa brought you, but how did you know? How did you persuade him to teleport?”

“Mum scared him reeeeeal good!” a young voice piped up from the foot of the bed, and Essek jumped as Luc vaulted onto the mattress and bounced energetically.

“You brought your whole family?!” Caleb exclaimed.

“Well, why not?” reasoned Yeza as he calmly followed the rest of his family into the room. “Luc enjoys playing in the garden here, and I’m always happy to be moral support for Veth.”

“That still doesn’t answer the question,” Caleb pointed out, looking a little stunned. Essek knew how he felt.

“Ah,” said Caduceus, somewhat sheepishly, “that might be my fault. Jester messaged, she’s been real worried, you know, and I might have let it slip that you were here. Sorry Mom, I think we need to set the table for three more.”

“I’ll get right on it,” chuckled Constance, slipping past Caduceus out of the room.

“Really worried?” said Veth, honing back in on Caleb. “Jester and Fjord have been out of their minds! So okay, a lot of this is conjecture because Jester only messaged to say that they were a day out from Nicodranas and they were hoping to get Yussa to teleport here to see you, but I can read between the lines. They were supposed to be halfway to Rumblecusp, so they must have known something was wrong days ago, and if you’d come here that probably meant you needed healing, and NO ONE TOLD ME! You could have been dead in the belly of an Absorber or a Deflector or whatever, and I would have had no idea! One of you could have been brought back from the dead, and I would still have no idea! Did you die? WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?”

“Neither of us died,” Caleb said quickly as he held Veth at arm’s length to look her in the eye. “We ended up in the largest anti-magic field I have ever encountered, and only escaped after some terrible luck and some close calls. I expect Jester realised something was wrong when her Sendings stopped getting through. I am sorry. I would have reached out to you if I could.”

“And what about your arm?” asked Veth bluntly, reaching out to gently touch Caleb’s bandages. “Why can’t Caddy heal it? What happened? Why are these bandages solid?”

“It’s a beeswax mixture,” Caduceus filled in, “works like a splint, but neater. My dad makes it.”

“I got chewed by a very large beast, right before Essek killed it,” Caleb explained. “Apparently my arm wasn’t healed soon enough, and now it’ll take longer. It’ll be alright, though. Back to normal in no time.”

“You’d better be,” said Veth direly, and the whole room seemed to drop in temperature, although it wasn’t entirely clear who she was aiming her ire at. She turned to Essek. “Thank you for bringing him back alive, and killing the monster that did this. You’re finally starting to earn back some of those points, as long as you don’t screw it up again.”

“Believe me, I will do everything in my power not to,” chuckled Essek nervously. “I desire nothing more than to earn my way back into your good graces.”

“Good,” said Veth.

From the end of the bed, where he was still bouncing cross-legged, Luc piped up, “How’d you kill the monster Essek? What did it look like?”

“Um…” said Essek, suddenly very conscious that he had no idea how to deal with kids. He felt Caleb nudge his side, and glanced round to see an encouraging look on the human’s face. He swallowed. He’d handled the Mighty Nein, he could handle this, right? “Very big, very sharp teeth,” he confirmed, turning back to Luc. “Would you believe me if I said I killed it by running into a wall?”

Luc frowned. “Did you bash its head into the wall? Or was it some cool magic thingy?”

“Neither,” smiled Essek, “I ran into the wall to make it fall down, which caused the ceiling to collapse on the beast’s head. Unfortunately, I also dislocated my shoulder in the process.”

Luc sucked in a dramatic breath between his teeth. “I bet that hurt!”

“A lot,” Essek agreed, “but a moment longer and Caleb could have been eaten alive.”

Luc’s eyes boggled. “Wooooah!”

“Tea’s ready!” came Cornelius’ voice from the doorway, and Veth sprang off the bed as Yeza patted Luc’s shoulder.

“Come on Luc,” said Yeza, “you can ask the wizards for more stories at dinner.”

As the occupants of the room slowly began to drift towards the dining room, Caleb nudged Essek again.

“Pass me my component pouch? Please? It’s on the table to your left.”

Essek twisted to grab Caleb’s component pouch from its spot on the table next to Caleb’s two books in their holsters, stacked neatly despite the leather straps still binding them. He’d hardly seen Caleb without those books at his side, and it was slightly jarring to realise they weren’t on him now.

Caleb rifled through the component pouch awkwardly with one hand before pulling out a tufty white feather, waving it through the air in a familiar somatic component, and muttering the arcane word for Fly. He tucked the component pouch into his sling, looked to Essek, and said, “Shall we?”

“If you’re up to it,” replied Essek, sliding off the bed and immediately activating his gliding cantrip as his hips protested.

Caleb watched this and his expression shifted slightly. “I’m only up to it if you are. We could stay here – Constance offered.”

“I can manage,” smiled Essek, “but thank you for asking.”

Caleb pushed the covers back and floated into the waiting wheelchair with the effortless elegance of a wizard in absolute control of his own Fly spell. Essek paused to appreciate it, then continued his way round the bed to intercept Caleb, who had prepared half the hand-gesture for Telekinesis but was apparently having trouble figuring out how to do the other half with no use of his right arm.

“Stop,” Essek said gently, touching Caleb’s wrist. “Let me.” It took him half a second longer than usual with his arm in a sling, but he successfully cast the spell, and the wheelchair rolled forward to meet him.

Caleb sighed and let his hands fall. “Thank you.”

“Perhaps we should go through your spellbook after dinner?” Essek suggested, falling into step alongside the chair. He knew that Caleb knew the spell Unseen Servant, and that he’d be able to cast it if he had it prepared. That would solve several of his problems quite neatly.

Caleb eyed Essek, as if knowing exactly what he was thinking. “Assuming Luc doesn’t call dibs on my attention, sure, I’d like to do that,” he said.

“However long this takes,” said Essek seriously, pausing in the doorway, “I will be here for you. Whatever you need. I made a promise that I wouldn’t leave, and I intend to keep it.”

“And what if it takes the rest of my life?” Caleb said quietly. “Caduceus has been careful not to say it, but I’ve thought it, and I think you have too. What if this injury never fully goes away? What if I can’t write or spellcast with this hand again?”

Essek swallowed. It was certainly a worry that had crossed his mind. But there was no question of what he would do, if given the option. “Would you have me for that long?” he asked, twisting his fingers in his overly-long sleeves. “Would you tolerate my company for years to come? Because I would stay, if you wished me to.” He paused, gathering the shreds of his courage. “I would stay whether you were injured or not, if you wished me to.”

Caleb gave him a long, searching look, before saying softly, “This is a conversation for another time. But I…there are many things I want to say. But I do not think I would tire of your company, Essek.” He held his gaze for a count of five, before offering a smile. “Now, shall we go to dinner?”

“Of course,” said Essek, glad for the excuse to move on for now and turn over the implications of that conversation in his mind later, alone. He had spent his life building walls around himself, and reinforcing the ones that grew naturally, and Caleb Widogast brought them all crashing down so effortlessly Essek wondered if he even knew he was doing it.

Caduceus was waiting for them before they entered the dining room, his smile slightly too knowing as he pulled out seats for them both. As Caleb floated gracefully into one, his Fly spell still active, Luc gasped in admiration from the other side of the table.

“It’s an honour to have you all here,” smiled Cornelius at all the guests as he brought out the meal – a hearty vegetarian stew which made Essek’s stomach rumble – and passed it to Clarabelle and Calliope to serve.

The table only just fit them all, and clearly some of the chairs had been hastily scavenged from other parts of the house, but it was an easy, jovial atmosphere, a far cry from the lonely desperation Essek had felt less than two days ago. Caduceus and Veth seemed to read his and Caleb’s moods with an ease that perhaps should have unsettled him, but instead he was grateful for, as they fended the eager questions from their respective families and diverted the conversation onto things such as Luc’s hobbies, how the Grove was doing, how late Colton was expected home tomorrow, and how violently Veth had threatened Yussa to scare him into teleporting her whole family on a whim. Essek and Caleb got to eat in peace, for the most part, only joining the conversation when they felt like it, which today was not often. Instead, Essek kept sneaking sideways glances, and he got the feeling Caleb was doing the same, though they never caught the other. It wasn’t that he was worried – he knew Caleb was okay, in the short term at least, barring the obvious injuries – but it was almost as if he couldn’t help looking for the proof. The internal scars of their narrow escape from Aeor weren’t going away any time soon.

Eating transitioned seamlessly into the chaotic bustle of clearing up, stoking the fire in the living room, offering round more cups of tea and a freshly-baked batch of cookies, and numerous insistences for Caleb and Essek to just sit and relax, everything was already being taken care of. It was Veth who wove her way through the moving maze of legs to tug on Caleb’s shirt and say, “Come on, let’s retreat to the lounge, leave them to it.” Caleb nodded, waved his feather and re-cast Fly, found Essek’s hand and beelined straight for the couch, bypassing the wheelchair altogether.

They settled as close to the fire as they could, on a couch built for two slim but tall people. Caleb pulled Essek down beside him, and in retrospect Essek should have expected Veth to squirm her way in on the other side of Caleb, squishing the three of them together cosily. Luc promptly made it stifling by climbing the back of the sofa and somersaulting into Veth’s lap then draping himself dramatically across all three of them. Caleb winced at the pressure on his leg.

“Luc, go and ask Cornelius if he needs any help clearing up,” said Veth firmly. “Your Uncle Caleb is fragile right now and doesn’t need you jumping all over him.”

“Sorry Mom,” drawled Luc and rolled onto the floor before picking himself up and running off back to the kitchen.

Yeza pulled up a footstool to the arm of Veth’s side of the couch and sat on it, leaning back with a sigh, offering an apologetic smile to Caleb and Essek. “I really am sorry for all of us barging in and bringing chaos when you needed to be recovering. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, you need only ask – I didn’t bring all my supplies but I can make pain relief tinctures, sleeping draughts-”

“Rhino sex potions,” Veth interjected, waggling her eyebrows.

“That is very kind, Yeza,” said Caleb, pointedly ignoring Veth. “We may take you up on…some of that at some point.”

Over the next half-hour, the Clay family drifted into the lounge one by one, settling down quietly in a much calmer atmosphere than had existed over dinner. Calliope snagged her aunt Corrin and Luc, and proceeded to teach the young halfling a fast-paced game that had something to do with stacking small twigs. Veth got up and joined for a round, after watching the tutorial carefully, and proceeded to win by miles. Caleb took the opportunity to stretch out more on the sofa, while Essek quickly retrieved Caleb’s spellbook from Caduceus’ room.

After that the wizards zoned out from the goings-on around them, heads bent close together as Essek helped Caleb prepare his spells. It was such a natural rhythm for them, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder as they worked on the arcane together, that it wasn’t until Caleb had finished preparing his last spell for the evening that they looked up and realised the only ones left in the room were Caduceus and Clarabelle.

“Where-” began Caleb.

“Veth and Yeza went to put Luc to bed,” filled in Caduceus. “I know you two haven’t been up long, but you should think about getting some rest too.”

As if on cue, Essek felt a wave of tiredness wash over him. “It’s not a bad idea,” he yawned, “but… um… would anyone mind if I tranced in Caleb’s room? I don’t want to be in anyone’s way, or-”

“Of course,” cut in Caleb easily, just as Caduceus said, “That’s not a problem at all, we’re a little short on space anyway now that Veth’s here.”

Something unwound in Essek’s chest, and he relaxed, turning to Caleb. “Are you tired?”

“On a scale of what we’ve become accustomed to, no, but my arm aches and I don’t think I could concentrate for much longer,” Caleb admitted. “Sleep would be welcome.”

“I’ll make you a numbing tea before bed,” declared Caduceus, standing and stretching stiffly.

Caleb cast Unseen Servant to fetch the wheelchair before Essek could offer, so Essek hovered back to Caduceus’ room with Caleb rolling behind. They made their own preparations in comfortable silence, until Caduceus knocked on the door with tea for both of them, which Essek collected and took to Caleb before retreating to the armchair which he intended to trance in.

Caleb made a faint noise behind him and Essek paused, turning.

“Is everything alright? Do you need anything else?”

“I…I don’t know,” confessed Caleb quietly. His expression looked as vulnerable as it had the moment he’d woken up in those tunnels to find himself still alive. “This is…you don’t have to say yes, I don’t want to force myself into your space more than you find comfortable, now that our lives aren’t in immediate danger, but…would you consider trancing in the bed, next to me? I just…” his face was growing steadily redder in the glow of his dancing lights, “I’m scared of waking up and panicking, and at least if you’re there, I don’t have to panic about you. I’m scared I’ll forget that I shouldn’t walk and end up making a fool of myself rushing out of bed to confirm where we are. I know it’s silly, because we’re safe now, but I’m scared I might not realise it the moment that I wake, and besides, I’ve…I’ve grown used to having you nearby.”

“Caleb,” said Essek, smiling helplessly around the word, “of course I don’t mind. We have become good at relying on each other, yes? We don’t need to do everything alone any more.”

He circled the bed and scootched up into the empty space beside Caleb – it was a single bed, so they were cosy, but it was a single bed built for someone with long limbs, so they were comfortable. Essek crossed his legs and sat up against the headboard, but was caught off guard when Caleb looped his good hand around his knee and pressed his forehead into Essek’s thigh.

“Is this alright?” Caleb mumbled, already half-asleep.

“It is fine,” answered Essek, smiling despite himself. Cautiously, reverently, he brushed his fingers through Caleb’s hair, and the tension simply drained out of the human’s shoulders. A warm feeling blossomed in his chest, taking him by surprise, so he did it again, and felt Caleb relaxing piece by piece. “Is this alright?” he asked.

“Ja,” replied Caleb, his voice heavily muffled with sleep and fabric.

“Good,” breathed Essek. He kept stroking Caleb’s hair until his own trance came, hours later, and he finally found his rest.

Chapter Text

Essek was jolted into awareness by Caleb lunging violently upright with a gasp, then pitching alarmingly sideways. The only thing that stopped Caleb toppling out of the bed and onto his bad arm was Essek’s hands which closed around his waist and yanked him back just in time. Caleb collapsed back against Essek, breathing hard, and Essek tried to calm his own racing heart as his mind caught up with the situation.

“Light above,” he breathed, “are you alright, Caleb?” He was loath to relinquish his hold round Caleb’s middle, so he adjusted his grip so that he could sit more comfortably with his chest against Caleb’s back and Caleb’s head on his shoulder. He suddenly realised that he’d used his left arm but his shoulder had barely protested. That was progress.

Caleb took a few more moments to calm down, mumbling something about an avocado and how everything was lies.

“Bad dream?” asked Essek sympathetically. He’d seen Caleb have a few of these – or rather, on multiple occasions he’d come down to the tower library at a time when he expected Caleb to still be asleep and found him wide awake and deep in books – but ironically, they seemed to happen increasingly when there was little else to be stressed about. If they needed to be on top form the next day, Caleb would sleep like a log.

“Sorry,” mumbled Caleb, curling in on himself slightly with his left arm coming up to cradle his right.

“Don’t apologise,” murmured Essek, his voice gentle but firm. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Caleb shook his head with a grimace, even as he said, “It didn’t make any sense. I knew, even in the dream, that it was bullshit, but that’s the thing about Trent. He makes you doubt everything you know. He, er, wiped my memories and made me feed you to Vokodo, who was working for him, because he was secretly an arch devil of the Astral Sea. Except my memories weren’t wiped, because I knew exactly what was happening, I just couldn’t stop it. Like I said, it was stupid.”

“Dreams don’t have to make any sense to still be terrifying,” said Essek softly. “They don’t have to follow any rules but their own. That’s what makes them so powerful. You and I both know that first-hand.”

“Yeah,” exhaled Caleb shakily. They were both silent for a moment, recovering. “Thank you, for catching me.”

“Always,” replied Essek, trying to resist the urge to bury his nose in Caleb’s tangled hair. Would that be stepping too far?

As if reading his mind, Caleb turned and craned his neck to meet Essek’s gaze. “I know this is objectively a terrible time, but…maybe we should have that talk.”

“Is this to distract you from thinking about the dream?” asked Essek wryly.

Caleb had the courtesy to look sheepish. “Erm…”

“It’s alright,” Essek assured him, “I am quite happy to talk about it now, if you are. Goodness knows this might be the last chance we have to be alone once Jester turns up tomorrow.”

“That is a good point,” said Caleb. He shuffled around in the circle of Essek’s arms so that they could see each other easier, although there was still very little space between them. Then he met Essek’s eyes. “When – and if – we go back to Aeor, to finish what we started, you and I both know it can’t last forever. I have a duty to the Empire, and a wish for its future, and I intend to see it through, even if it takes my entire lifetime. I expect it to take my entire lifetime. I do not know what your plans are in the Dynasty, but if you intend to stay there, then I do not know how our interests will align in the future. And I…” he swallowed hard, “I do not wish for us to drift apart. We will always be part of the Mighty Nein, and nothing will change what we have all been through together, but they are no longer an everyday part of our lives, and I…” he paused, weighing his words, and then chuckled humourlessly, the fingers of his good hand digging relentlessly into his bandages. “I don’t know why this is so hard to say, or so terrifying to admit. I enjoy spending time with you, Essek. And I dearly wish that our time together will continue far past this trip, even though I cannot see a clear path to making it happen.”

“I wish for that too,” said Essek solemnly, “and if the both of us wish it, then surely that is all that we need to make it happen? You and I are both very intelligent people, and natural problem solvers. The fact that we can both teleport makes any distance between us seem inconsequential. And yet…” he paused to breathe, taking the time to unwrap one arm from around Caleb and pry Caleb’s fingers from where they were meticulously destroying the edge of his wound dressing. Taking the hand in his own, he continued, “my tenure as Shadowhand is in jeopardy from my own actions, and my position and reputation may collapse around me at any moment. Assassination or execution, either is on the table if I remain where I am, politically speaking, and yet the moment I run, the truth will come out anyway. No matter what I do, nothing can truly go back to the way it was, and I do not think I would want it to. Part of me wishes I could at least put my affairs in order before disappearing forever, but another part advises caution. Whatever I do, I fear it will be motivated by cowardice, but whatever happens, I have no intention of being assassinated or executed, not when you have given me this second chance, and it would be rude not to take it.”

“In the absence of politics and peril,” said Caleb, “ignoring all threat and danger, in five years, where would you like to be?”

“By your side,” answered Essek without pause, and felt his heart thud in his chest with the adrenaline of honesty. He was truly baring his soul now, and there was no going back. “I care nothing for politics – you know this. My position has allowed me certain privileges, and access to certain resources which have been useful to my research in the past, but I would trade it all in an instant in favour of your collaboration. It is not a matter of putting one thing above the other – you have somehow arrived at the centre of everything I care about. I am sorry if this puts an unfair weight on your shoulders – I assure you, I do not expect anything –”

“Essek,” cut in Caleb, an unexpected note of amusement in his voice, “are you offering to elope with me?”

Essek felt his face heat up in seconds, and as his stomach twisted he wished for nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear. His brain had ground to a halt, and all he could stutter out was, “Well…that’s not…I mean…I guess…”

“Relax!” laughed Caleb, and was it Essek’s imagination, or were his cheeks a little red too? “Jester would have a field day, but like you said, I do not expect anything from you either. I would welcome your company, wherever I go next, and if our paths diverge to different parts of the continent then we will find a way around that as well. What’s the phrase? The world’s our oyster.”

“That makes no sense,” snorted Essek, finally starting to feel his heart rate calm.

Caleb shrugged. “Fjord said it once. It means opportunity. Possibility. We are good at that, aren’t we?”

“We are,” agreed Essek.

“And even when things are really bad, we’ve come through for each other, haven’t we?”

Essek bowed his head until his forehead touched Caleb’s. “I trust the Mighty Nein with my life. But I trust you with…everything. It’s terrifying.”

“I know,” confessed Caleb with a small smile. “We are both terrible people who have been betrayed and been betrayers, and I did not want to trust you for ages, but here we are.” His hand was still captured by Essek’s, so instead he rolled the shoulder of his injured arm with a small wince. “The smart thing to do would have been to leave me behind.”

“That was never an option.”

“I know.”

Essek chuckled. “Look at us, a pair of wizards having a genuine conversation about trust, where it has been ingrained in our bones from the beginning never to trust another practitioner of the arcane. How did it come to this? Are we both insane?”

“Honestly, I think it’s more likely to be the opposite,” hummed Caleb, curling into Essek so that his head rested below Essek’s chin. “We ended up here because we found other people to be a grounding influence. It is dangerous to be left alone with one’s ambition.”

“As I well know,” mused Essek. “I think you have far more wisdom than those who have come before you, young man. You will make your country a better place, I am sure of it.”

Caleb chuckled. “And all because you dragged my limp ass through miles of tunnels while shirtless, to the point where you almost dropped dead from exhaustion. Seriously, how much of this are we telling Jester? Because I don’t trust her not to turn it into a smut novel and I don’t know if I’d be comfortable with that.”

“We can, um, leave out the shirtless part,” said Essek decisively. “I’m sure it looked much less heroic than it sounds, given that I have zero visible muscles.”

“In truth, that makes it more heroic,” pointed out Caleb matter-of-factly, making something warm blossom in Essek’s chest right above Caleb’s cheek, “but as for the muscles, I think a beach holiday on Rumblecusp is just what we need after this. We’ll go to the ocean at night and I’ll teach you how to swim. You might get a muscle or two from that.”

Essek laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days. Was this what it was like to be close to a person? Existing with Caleb somehow felt even easier than existing by himself, filling him with a sense of comfort where usually social interaction left him drained after only a short while. He’d noticed this in Aeor, but before he fell in that damn lake he never expected it to extend to cuddling. And they were definitely cuddling. “I thought Fjord was going to teach me to swim?” he queried.

“I wouldn’t be offended if you’d rather take lessons from him,” Caleb offered, “but I’d be happy to teach you, once your shoulder is recovered and my arm looks something like an arm again.”

“I think I would rather learn from you,” admitted Essek. “After all, you have already seen me embarrass myself thoroughly in the water. It can only improve from there.”

“I look forward to it,” smiled Caleb.

Their conversation died down after that, and in the following minute or two of silence, Essek noticed that Caleb’s eyes were drifting closed.

“Perhaps you should finish your rest,” he suggested.

Caleb responded with a sleepy hum.

“Fine,” Essek sighed, giving in, and slid down beneath the covers, rearranging Caleb into a comfortable horizontal position which turned out to be partially on top of him, Caleb’s bad arm propped carefully across Essek’s waist. It was warm, and though it was rather too distracting to trance, Essek found himself dropping off to sleep for the last two hours of the night.

Chapter Text

Just their luck – it was tangled together in sleep that Luc found them in the morning, calling enthusiastically that breakfast was ready. At first, it seemed like they might get away with it. For four hours, he was oddly silent – four hours during which Jester, Fjord and Kingsley arrived (courtesy of a sending spell and Essek’s best teleportation efforts, sparing poor Yussa). Caleb was sitting with his arm on the kitchen table as Jester unbound the bandages to cast Regenerate the two times she could manage for the day, when Luc bounded up onto the chair next to Essek, and asked loudly, “So are you and Uncle Caleb married?”

Essek was stunned to silence for a full second before realising that of course, Luc was a child and would ask ridiculous questions. There was no reason to be thrown off guard by it. “No, we’re not,” he replied primly, and turned back to Caleb and Jester, who had paused in her ministrations and was giving Essek an oddly perceptive smirk.

“Really?” pushed Luc, “because mom and dad sleep in the same bed because they’re married so they’re used to each other’s smell. How come you and Caleb were sleeping in the same bed, if you’re not married?”

Essek thought that Caleb would probably describe the expression on Jester’s face as ‘the cat who got the cream’. It was really no surprise when she said, “Oh, I guess you two got really close in Aeor, huh? Was it, like, suuuuper romantic?”

“Jester, I nearly lost my arm,” said Caleb flatly, and Essek had to bless him for his calm control of the situation. He himself was feeling somewhat short of breath, even in the flowing lilac shirt he’d borrowed from Caduceus today.

“Yes, but you didn’t because Essek rescued you,” Jester winked. “Oh my gosh, you guys are so cute and you don’t even realise it!”

“So are you married or not?” Luc cut in impatiently.

“No, we are not,” replied Caleb, finally turning to the halfling child, “but we have grown accustomed to each other’s smell.” He finished with a wink, and Luc giggled. Essek relaxed.

Over the next week, Jester demanded and orchestrated a proper Mighty Nein holiday, pestering Beau and Yasha with Sendings until Beau got some official time off work and allowed Essek (in heavy disguise) to bring them to the Blooming Grove. The tower, being a higher-level spell, required complicated somatics which Caleb could not cast without both hands, so they camped around the house in various combinations, though the Brenattos got the run of Clarabelle and Calliope’s room, while Essek and Caleb were told to stay in Caduceus’ room with no arguments. After a week and a half of general mayhem, Caduceus finally put his foot down and declared that they were all going to Rumblecusp until they had worked off their excess energy from a lack of adventuring – to which Beau shrugged and replied “Fair,” Jester complained that she’d never stopped adventuring and didn’t Caduceus appreciate the new coat of paint she’d given to the old parts of the house which still bore numerous burn scars? Luc whooped in excitement and shot Fjord in the eye with a rubber dart, and Essek felt a familiar twinge in his back at the stress and leaned into a now-walking Caleb, who wrapped his good arm round his waist in support.

“I love them, but how much longer do you think until your arm is better?” asked Essek quietly.

“At the rate Cad and Jester are going, my fingers will be fully back in another week and a half,” whispered Caleb in reply, his expression amused. “You saw me bend my elbow yesterday with no pain. Just a short while longer, Schatz, and then we can get some peace and quiet. Who knows, perhaps they’ll decide they don’t need to stay for the whole time and we’ll get some peace earlier?”

“As long as Jester is involved in the healing process, I highly doubt it,” muttered Essek, getting a laugh out of Caleb.

Rumblecusp was glorious, and as it turned out, due to Essek’s sunlight sensitivity and Caleb’s tendency to burn easily, they had the perfect excuse for not going out during the day, so they both got some quiet time at the new house while the others spent full days at the beach. On the second night, Caleb teleported them from their shared room to the nearby cove, and stripped down to just his underwear and the bandages on his forearm before wading backwards into the sea, beckoning for Essek to join him.

Essek did, reluctantly, reminding himself repeatedly that it was dark and Caleb could barely see him in the starlight and Caleb had seen him half-naked anyway and that it didn’t matter, he trusted Caleb with everything. The water was colder than he expected when he first put his toes in, but he quickly found it was warmer the further he waded in, a consequence of ocean currents, he supposed.

Caleb was thirty feet out already, floating on his back, arms and legs splayed. Essek waded until he was waist deep and then stopped, planting his feet nervously as the waves batted him back and forth. “Um. Caleb?”

Caleb righted himself abruptly, then without any warning, disappeared below the waves completely.

“CALEB!” cried Essek in alarm, barely-contained panic coursing through his veins. He almost wanted to dive after him, but he knew that could only end badly – best to see if there was truly a danger and then rely on his magic to get him and Caleb out of it.

A few moments later, though, Caleb resurfaced within ten feet of him, laughing at the look on his face before apologising profusely when he realised that Essek had been truly scared.

“Here, we’ll start with a starfloat,” he said, and proceeded to teach Essek how to float on his back, and then how to do a backstroke, and then how to open his eyes underwater, which Essek found near-impossible but joyous when he achieved it, because the sea around Rumblecusp was full of colours. Then, Caleb surprised him by pulling out a piece of straw and casting Underwater Breathing on both of them, a spell Essek hadn’t realised he knew, and hand-in-hand they swam out to the reef, Caleb clearly the stronger swimmer even though one arm was cradled protectively across his chest and the other was holding onto Essek. The reef was breathtaking, and more than an hour later they returned to shore, exhausted and wrinkly, to collapse on the beach and lie side-by-side, watching the stars. Essek barely had the presence of mind to teleport them both back to the house before they fell asleep.

In the morning, Jester and Caduceus berated Caleb for getting his arm wet, as apparently several hours of soaking in saltwater was not good for deep puncture wounds which might get infected. Caleb sulked quietly at his ocean-ban for two days, before Essek revealed his designs for a first-level modification of Prestidigitation, which – with concentration – would keep his arm safely dry. Together, they quickly ironed out the details, and they spent every night after that at the cove, Essek gradually growing more confident in the water.

Two weeks after arriving at Rumblecusp, after days of watching the bandages on Caleb’s arm shrink bit by bit, Jester cast the final Regenerate and Essek watched with bated breath as green sparks showered over the stumps of Caleb’s fingers, fading after a minute to reveal a complete and whole hand. Caleb flexed his new fingers in wonder, the fresh pink skin slightly paler and less weathered than the rest of his hand, although due to Caleb’s general pallor, the difference was slight.

“Thank you, Jester,” he breathed. “Thank you, Caduceus. This is…this is…”

“I’m just sorry it took so long,” said Caduceus amiably. “You were very patient with it all.”

“And we got to have a holiday!” beamed Jester. “But I’m glad you’re all better now, Cayleb. Now please don’t go to Aeor and get hurt again – take someone with you who isn’t totally useless in an anti-magic field, because getting stuck in that was kinda dumb, no offence.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes. “We will consider it, than you Jester.”

That night, they all slept in the tower, with a few modifications: Kingsley had his own room, with increasingly personal décor, Veth’s room was larger to house the whole Brenatto family, Fjord and Jester’s rooms were combined, as were Beau’s and Yasha’s, but Caleb led Essek up straight past his own room, all the way to the ninth floor, where the starry expanse of endless possibility was broken up only by a small square of floorboard, upon which was a double bed, a small bedside table and a floating door which led to a comfortably-sized bathroom.

“Is this a permanent arrangement?” queried Essek, settling in on what had now become his side of the bed.

“It could be,” shrugged Caleb with one shoulder, tugging the hair tie out of his hair and revelling in running all his fingers through the loosed strands. “I didn’t really intend it to be, though. I thought perhaps we could discuss how we would like our rooms to be joined, since this sleeping arrangement was born out of…I would not like to term it weakness, but vulnerability, perhaps? And now we are in a position to choose how we proceed.”

“I admit, it is not ideal for trancing,” confessed Essek, “but sleep, I have found over the last weeks, has its own merits. Especially as it seems to help you.”

“It does,” admitted Caleb, climbing in on his side of the bed and sliding down so that he was lying on his side, nose inches from Essek’s. “That doesn’t mean I want to keep you from trancing if it’s what you prefer. You’re essentially giving up four hours of your day for this.”

“A worthy sacrifice, in my opinion,” said Essek with a smile. “I know the others have teased us relentlessly, but I would be happy if this arrangement never changed. I would also be happy if this friendship we share never changed. However…” he bit his lip nervously, and watched as Caleb’s eyes flickered down to it for a second. Huh. “I have been, ah, wondering, I guess, in these last few weeks, if you. Um. What I mean is, I find you a very…I like you a lot. Maybe in a different way to how I like the rest of our friends. I am not explaining this very well, and I really, really don’t want to make things awkward between us, but the truth is, I suspect I know what these feelings are but I have very little experience with such things – where genuine emotion is involved, I mean – and it is just a little bit terrifying, but-”

He was cut off, as Caleb closed the short distance between them and captured his mouth in a kiss. Essek froze in surprise, and in the time it took him to recover, Caleb had pulled back, a new anxious insecurity written plainly on his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…I should have asked…” Caleb murmured, colour rising to his cheeks, but by now Essek had pulled himself together, and this time he leaned forward, kissing Caleb back.

“Is this okay?” Essek murmured against Caleb’s lips, his hands snaking around Caleb’s waist under the covers.

“Ja, it is more than okay,” Caleb murmured back, stealing another kiss as he pulled Essek closer.

They fell asleep soon after, tangled in each other’s warmth and safety.

Chapter Text

“Sir? Why do you always cast simple somatics with your left hand when you’re right handed?” Eva asked as the class began to pack away their books.

Professor Widogast paused in stacking his paper back into his desk drawer. “That’s an astute observation, Eva,” he said thoughtfully. “Have you ever been deep in writing something down and needed to cast at the same time?”

Eva shook her head, as did several other students who had been drawn into the question by proximity and were now invested in the answer.

“It can come in very handy to be able to use either hand while casting,” the professor explained, “but truthfully, I once sustained a heavy injury to my right hand which took several weeks to repair, and had to become adept in using my left. The habit never quite wore off.”

“How did you get injured?”

“Was it caused by magic?”

“Were you cursed?”

“How old were you?”

“That’s enough questions for today, I think,” Professor Widogast cut in, closing the drawer and picking up his satchel. “If no one has any queries about the homework, you’re all free to go. Remember, my office is open at all times during the day if you’re stuck on this or any other work.”

The class burst through the doors and out into the courtyard, student banter at top volume, but Eva looked back just in time to see Professor Widogast lock the door and then turn to embrace a waiting elf – short blonde hair, tanned skin and purple robes – lean in for what looked like a kiss, and disappear.

“Who was that?” she hissed to Marta, who glanced round only to see the locked door.

“Who?”

“It’s a different guy each week,” interrupted a semi-familiar voice, and Eva turned to see Ray, from the year above, fall into step beside her. “Xavier thinks he’s seen the same guy more than once, but I swear the face is different. Usually an elf, though, and usually a similar height.”

“You don’t think it’s the same guy under an illusion?” suggested Eva. “Where do they come from?”

“No one sees them enter, so we assume they teleport in, even though it’s not allowed,” Ray shrugged. “Could be an illusion. Would make sense.”

“Widogast wears a wedding ring,” Marta interjected, “I bet it’s his husband.”

“Luc would know,” interrupted Ravi, bouncing up on the other side of Marta. “My older brother is friends with his little sister back home, and he says she says Luc got private tutoring from Widogast when he was, like eight.”

“That’s ridiculous,” said Ray. “Widogast wasn’t even teaching that long ago. Luc’s like, what, twenty? Widogast only started seven years ago. Luc would have been in his first form group.”

“Why didn’t Luc’s sister get tutoring?” Marta asked.

“She never had to, she’s a sorcerer, it comes naturally to her,” Ravi shrugged. “Stupid sorcery.”

“We’re getting off topic,” Eva pointed out. “Is that guy Widogast’s husband or not? And if so, why is he always wearing a disguise?”

“Look, there’s Luc!” pointed Marta, and Eva followed her line of sight across the courtyard and through the passage behind the divination building. “We could ask?”

“Imma ask!” announced Ravi, and took off running. The others were close behind. “Luc! Luc!”

The grad student in question turned, raising an eyebrow as the four young students – all taller than him – skidded to a halt.

“Luc!” exclaimed Ravi, out of breath. “Important question. Who’s the dude who always meets Professor Widogast after school, and why is he disguised?”

“If it’s the same guy,” added Ray.

Luc rolled his eyes. “It’s simple, really. The person meeting him is his drow husband who is a wanted criminal in the Empire and the Kryn Dynasty for stealing the magic holy dodecahedron that the Kryn worship which Widogast gave back, and they fell in love by fighting a massive ancient crazy sentient city in the Astral Sea, and the husband wears a disguise so as not to draw attention but the authorities who want him dead don’t dare make a move for fear of being undermined by a bunch of dick drawings, a shitton of herbal tea, a lightning god, a halfling in reindeer antlers, half the ships in the Lucidian Ocean and the full might of the Cobalt Soul. Did you get all that?”

He didn’t even wait for the gobsmacked expressions on the students’ faces to fade before hoisting his backpack further onto his shoulders and walking away.

Once he was gone, the four students turned to one another.

“That was bullshit, right? He was bullshitting us,” said Ray.

“Yup,” agreed Ravi. “Complete and total horsecrap.”

“I’m impressed if he thought of that on the spot,” said Marta. “Do you think he gets that question a lot?”

“Well, at least we’ve ruled out one possibility,” laughed Eva, “because there’s no way that’s true. Right…?”