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Now you see it, now you don't.
When they first met, the Traveler shone like the sun.
Getting along had been easy. So easy. Too easy, perhaps. He didn't even have to put on his usual act, to put his mission first.
He was just "plain Lyney" to him, but as much as he wishes that could be the case once again…
… There's no denying that such a thing isn't possible anymore.
"He did say he would treasure the rose you gave him. Doesn't that mean he forgave you?" The clink of a metal spoon against a tea cup. Lynette sees through him like she always does, always knowing.
Lyney, the Great Magician Lyney, House of the Hearth operative Lyney, fatui Lyney, just plain old Lyney sighs. And he picks out another card. 7 of spades.
"Does it, now? I wonder…"
He mixes the card back into the deck.
–
The truth is, Lynette is trying to cheer him up. What a sad state of affairs, when his little sister has to be worrying about him: he would rather she didn't have to worry about anything at all. But that's just how Lynette is. She sees too much, she worries too much.
It makes sense, too–Lyney has never been known for these bouts of sentimentality.
A guarded smile, calculated charm, explosive performances… those skills were pivotal to his and Lynette's early survival, and they became even more so when Father waltzed into their lives, blood-stained and loving.
The only people who could know him were his fellow orphans.
Here, none will ever betray you. Indeed, betrayal shall never be permitted here.
Those words still resonate in his head like the first time he ever heard them. He's pretty sure that if he closes his eyes and tries to, he could recall every detail of that night as if he was there, the smell of blood, the terror in his sister's face, the Knave standing there in the darkness, an idol, a fearsome god. Father.
Lyney knows what his mission is, he knows who he's indebted to, and who his family is.
So in control he believed himself of his easy smiles and chipper persona that he wholeheartedly thought these sorts of feelings were beyond him, a luxury for others to partake in and for him to pantomime.
And yet.
Lynette has long since gone to sleep, her cup unattended on the table. Alone with his thoughts, he flips another card.
2 of clubs. Hm.
–
"I'm looking for my sister." The Traveler says to him, a determined look on his face, and Lyney instantly sympathizes. What kind of person would he respect if not someone who would do anything for their family?
And so he thought they were alike. Not as The Great Magician Lyney, House of the Hearth operative Lyney, even fatui Lyney, but as himself. Just plain old Lyney! How long had it been since he felt like that?
So he and his sister guided the Traveler and his small companion around. Oh how interesting the tales, how fun the trip! Who else would walk into a nation and immediately get into an altercation with its Archon?
Then again, Fontanians live for the drama, the spectacle, the grand gestures and big, theatrical performances, so perhaps there wasn't a better way to make a first impression on the population (and its god) than that.
What started as a budding interest had him slipping up, his fake smiles a little less fake, his walls a bit too low. Dazzling like the sun, Lyney's eyes could barely look at him directly, suddenly feeling incredibly aware of the lives he touched, the foes he defeated. And oh, how jealous that made him…
Please, keep your eyes on me for just a little longer.
He knew this was going to be a magic show to remember.
(Boy, was it! His performances now have a body count.)
He absently recalls not being able to find the 5 of diamonds in his deck before the show.
…
"I understand your situation, and I'm sorry. But I still can't completely trust you." Lyney's mind is filled with lumidouce bells.
The Traveler really sounds like he means the sorry part. And the not trusting him part.
He understands it. Letting your guard down, forming a connection, being betrayed, he knows that pain well.
Indeed, betrayal shall never be permitted here.
Indeed, indeed.
Later that night, Lyney discovers his 5 of diamonds was inside his hat all along. How he didn't see it before, he doesn't know.
—
The Traveler still smiles after that, but the radiance is duller somehow. The sun, if the sun was covered in Snezhnayan permafrost. It's understandable, really.
Now you see it, now you don't. Trust is so hard to earn back once it's broken.
With quick sleight of hand, he pulls another rainbow rose out of thin air. It's the fifth one in this rehearsal.
"You're using nothing but these lately." Lynette says, and there's a fondness in her voice.
"Oh? Should I change it up? I wouldn't want my performances to get predictable."
"No, I… think it's a good change."
She smiles. It's a bit embarrassing, really, but his dear sister can, as always, read him like a book.
Magic is, in a way, the art of making people's wishes come true. It's about watching the audience's expressions bloom into a full smile, free of worries. Cesar taught him that.
So there's no use in crying over spoiled milk, he figures.
Trust can break, disappear. But what does a magician do if not mend the broken, make that which is precious reappear?
It would take some work and some time, but he figures he–not Great Magician Lyney, not House of the Hearth Lyney or fatui Lyney, but plain old Lyney–can one day pull such a trick if he tries.
His hand hovers above his stack of cards, but he doesn't even need to flip it to know it's the ace of hearts.