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“And this…” Kakavasha’s papa heaved the small boy up onto the top of the particular steep rock, lowering himself to the boy’s eye level and waving his calloused hand across the desert landscape. “This is where we prepare Mama Fenge’s offerings each year.”
The boy’s vibrant eyes washed over the barren rocks and swirling dust, drinking in the sharp shadows cast by the craggy outcroppings, like claws grasping at the sand grains.
The desert was not a welcoming place, the boy knew. The Katicans crawled through the crevices outside of the sun’s reach, hiding wherever they could find refuge, waiting to strike - but as long as Father and Big Sis were nearby, things were alright. They were safe.
At least, that was what he told himself. The scene began warping before his eyes, shadows reaching their talons closer and closer…
“Kids, run!” The intensity in his papa’s voice struck Kakavasha like a bolt of lightning, and though many questions jolted through the boy’s mind, he knew better than to say them aloud. Like an arrow from a bow, he lunged past his father and away whatever gave him that look in his eyes.
Run. Run. Run. Don’t look back.
Looking back only meant slowing down. And slowing down meant whoever was chasing them would gain more ground.
All he could do was run.
The harsh pants of his sister followed hot on his heels, and further behind - but not by much - he heard the cries of those cruel Katicans in dogged pursuit.
Where was Papa?
He couldn’t look back - he had to keep running.
Run.
Run.
Run.
He reached the dark liquid river. Too deep to wade through - they’d have to swim across.
The shouts were getting closer. Too close.
A heart-wrenching scream - his father’s - and a spray of warm liquid splashing across his back and into his hair.
Don’t look back.
But he had to.
“Papa!”
Where was that damned gambler?
Out of all the scholar’s associates, only Aventurine would call Ratio for an in-person meeting to discuss their upcoming assignment together, only to be unresponsive to his messages once he reached the IPC’s headquarters. The meeting had been scheduled late enough to postpone his usual dinner time. At this point, he was completely unsure when he would be arriving home this evening.
Not only that, but none of the Stoneheart’s subordinates seemed to be aware of his location. As the last of them packed up them belongings to return home for the evening, they told him that it was a well-known fact that the Avgin avoided working in his office unless it was to keep up appears directly before, during and after meetings, preferring instead to take his work to some secluded corner of the facility. Whether he frequented the same location during these times or moved between several was a mystery, as none of his employees had been able to find him during these times of isolation - not for a lack of trying on their part, apparently.
Though the Stoneheart was typically prompt to respond to messages and calls during his disappearances, the mystery about it all was apparently too much for these idle gossips. Of course, no one had the courage to ask the man directly - not that Aventurine would answer them honestly if they did.
The doctor sighed as he walked through the storage halls, his fourth destination on his extended search for the errant gambler. If this was Aventurine’s way of preparing him for their next assignment, they would need to have a serious talk before proceeding further.
Once more, he dialed the gambler’s number, practically ingrained in his memory at this point, and tried again.
From a distant corner of the room, a faint buzzing echoed against one of the metal boxes. In the otherwise silent room, the sudden noise was quite jarring and quickly drew the doctor’s attention.
How peculiar…
Ratio stepped over the countless number of boxes, no doubt filled with trivial reports and other documents that the IPC had once needed before banishing them to this haphazard basement realm just in case their services were needed once more. Aeons only knew how much knowledge was trapped in these depths, lost to the masses in the vapid pursuit of credit accumulation.
The noise had stopped, but Ratio had already pinpointed the area of its origin.
The scholar delved deeper into the records in that general direction, and peering inside a particularly large storage container, he found what he was searching for.
Documents lay haphazardly strewn across a makeshift desk, a few wooden crates pushed together. Atop one of those reports, a phone glowed with the notification of another missed call.
And across the desk lay the unconscious sleeping form of the missing Stoneheart, face tucked into his arm, avoiding the light.
Aventurine truly did have incompetent subordinates if they could not uncover this location after months of inquiry. It only took him a few hours of his time - a few unnecessary hours of his time that the gambler now owed him.
“Now is not the time to sleep, damn gambler!” Ratio made a move to shake him awake when the scholar froze, eyes taking in several details that had initially escaped his notice.
The pen in Aventurine’s hand was still pressed against a sheet of paper, half-filled with notes and directives, no doubt. The ink pooled at the tip, creating a sizable puddle that would no doubt force the gambler’s hand into rewriting the page again. Based on the notable stack of papers beside him embossed with words in the same color, he had been at this for quite some time, especially if he had fallen asleep before Ratio had arrived hours earlier as the scholar assumed from the lack of response to his previous messages.
But to Ratio, the more startling detail than that were the gambler’s eyes. Though many blatantly stared at them when they were opened, the doctor could not help but observe them in their current closed state.
The tear tracks down the Avgin’s cheeks were not a sight he had seen before - he doubted many others had. The traces trailed through his carefully applied foundation, smudging the makeup to reveal the dark eye bags that lay beneath.
Before the doctor could make any other observations, the blonde man's eyelids snapped open.
The Stoneheart jolted upright in his seat, shallow breaths escaping his lungs. A moment later, those hypnotic ringed irises locked on his, and it was as if a switch had been flipped. Like a shadow from an eclipsing sun, the lingering fear and uncertainty evaporated from his face, immediately replaced by the cavalier expression Ratio had grown accustomed to. “Ah… greetings, doctor.” Aventurine stiffly stood to his feet, letting out an overly exaggerated yawn, capping off the performance with his signature smirk. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”
“Are you alright? You seem…”
Aventurine laughed, the practiced smile not quite reaching his tired eyes. “Of course, doctor - you just caught me at a bad time.”
Ratio sighed, shaking his head. There was more to it - anyone with eyes and a working brain could see that, but he knew that continuing down this line of questioning would yield no positive results. “What are you doing hiding in this foul corner when you have a perfectly acceptable office upstairs near the rest of humanity?”
“Does it matter as long as the work gets done?”
The scholar’s eyes glanced again to the make-shift desk. “Clearly it isn’t if you are sleeping on the job,” he pointedly remarked.
The Stoneheart’s smile lowered slightly before he hiked it up again. “Well, you know what they say: I got where I am because of my high-risk, high-reward plays - just luck .” The words were saturated with sarcasm and self-deprication as Aventurine parroted them as if he had heard them many times before.
“Hmm.” Ratio crossed his arms. “My main concern is the task I have been assigned - and making sure it is accomplished effectively.”
“My, straight to the point.” Aventurine leaned over his workspace, pulling several documents from the various piles. “Well then, let’s take these back to my office to go over the details.”
“Why relocate when it seems you have all the necessary information at your disposal here?”
The Stoneheart gave him a long glance. “Well, it’s not the most comfortable place for meetings.”
“Then tell me why, damn gambler, you seem to spend your time here, when your office was created to be a space for such work-related activities?”
This time, it was Aventurine’s turn to sigh. “Well, I designed that office with meetings in mind. Not actual work work.”
“Why for aeon’s sake would you create a virtually unusable space?” Ratio knew the gambler was illogical, but sometimes the man truly confounded him.
Those luminous eyes gleamed in the low light. “Oh, I’d hardly say it’s unusable - after all, appearances are an important part of closing a deal, and-” he gestured to the papers on the table, heavily annotated with notes in various colors of ink, “-I’m not one to reveal my hand before all the bets are in.”
“Is it really worth going to such lengths?” he questioned. “That is quite a lot of effort and inconvenience just for the slight semblance of an upper hand.”
The Avgin’s eyes glittered. “I don’t know, doctor . You tell me.”
With his mind’s eye, Ratio surveyed the opulent office that the Stoneheart had, before this point, seemed to occupy for all his business dealings. The walls appeared practically papered in gold, while the ostentatious mahogany desk was tastefully decorated with dazzling trinkets that, despite their gaudy appearance, the IPC consultant knew were worth quite a sum. The walls were lined with bookshelves that held more opulent relics as well as a handful of books with titles relating to popular concepts, topics of business, commerce and the like.
To his (rightfully incredible) memory, he could not recall ever witnessing any work-related notes or documents on Aventurine’s desk, save the ones that man produced strictly related to whatever the matter at hand had been for the meeting. Ration had assumed that Aventurine had kept them organized in the ornate filing cabinet in the corner of the room, whether for confidentiality's sake or cleanliness, but he now knew that was not the case.
Thinking back on first impressions, Ratio had thought the man to be vain and vapid, concerned with wealth and appearances more than the finer details of his work. By the end of their initial conversation, the scholar was shaken, the weight of the gun still heavy in his hand. Yet, despite the off-putting interaction, Ratio was quite sure there was something deeper lurking behind that display of madness.
In some respects, the doctor hadn’t been wrong, but he wouldn’t award himself any points for accurate assessment either. The messy surface before him told a different story - the story of a dedicated worker drowning in the finer details, observing the details of each assignment from every angle before making his move. His mind flashed back to Aventurine, lying across these wooden crates, tear traces shining in the storage room’s low light.
He understood now.
“You want them to underestimate you - it’s all part of your elaborate games,” the scholar mused aloud. The Avgin’s eyes gleamed, but gave nothing away as Ratio continued his assessment. “You play into their expectations - an executive handed the position, concerned more with the wealth and status that it provides than the work, the type to overlook technicalities and minor concerns, portraying the stereotype they’re already expecting from you.”
Aventurine says nothing, but the smile that adorns his face feels more genuine, more tired, than the ones that had graced his face before. “Spoken like the true poster boy for the Intelligentsia Guild.”
Ratio shook his head, frowning. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me, gambler.”
A laugh escaped the Stoneheart’s throat, more muted than before. “Ah, but it never hurts, does it?”
The doctor did not deign to reply.
Aventurine pulled his phone from his pocket, wincing at the glare of the screen. “I really did keep you waiting, didn’t I? Well, I won’t take more of your time than necessary.” He pulled one of the smaller cabinets closer to the desk, taking a seat and gesturing to the empty chair behind his desk.
Ratio raised an eyebrow, staring down at the smaller man. “I thought you were opposed to holding meetings here.”
“You’ve seen all my cards now. What’s there to hide now?” Those [hypnotic] eyes held Ratio’s gaze, almost daring him to look away.
It was more than apparent that there were plenty of mysteries the Stoneheart still held close to his chest, clutched in an ever-tightening fist, but to push back now would only extend this already prolonged exchange, and the doctor truly wanted to return home soon.
Ratio sat down. “So - you requested my assistance on a new mission, though the nature of it hasn’t been explained.”
Wordlessly, Aventurine passed him one of the papers he’d seemed to have been reading earlier. Ratio only needed to scan the words for a few moments before his stone-cold gaze returned to the gambler across from him. “You are making a move on Penacony ?”
The Stoneheart shook his head, that daring smile returning as he leaned forward. “ We are making a move on Penacony. You’ll be on the ground with me.”
“Damn gambler - how in Aeons name do you expect the Family to let you onto the planet in any meaningful way?”
The smile grew more jagged, bitter. “Well, let’s just say I was lucky enough to receive an invitation from the Watchmaker himself.”
Ratio rarely felt shocked to silence, but he had no other genuine reaction to all the information he was receiving. Instead, he dropped his gaze back to the paper in hand and read further.
“ Unfortunately , the invitation only extends to me. As a member of the Intelligentsia Guild, you don’t warrant the same suspicion that the IPC does, so you should be able to reserve your own room without any issues. Obviously, I’ll be covering your expenses, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
“I assumed as much,” the scholar commented, still reading through the information in front of him.
Aventurine smirked, leaning back on his makeshift seat. “You know what they say about ‘assuming’, doctor.”
Ratio didn’t give the gambler the satisfaction of a response. “It says here that I will be your manager during this visit.”
“Ah, yes.” The Stoneheart shifted his position, drumming his fingers on his thigh, eyes focused on the rhythmic movements. “With the way I foresee my plan playing out, I doubt I’ll be able to communicate with the others the same way you would.”
Ratio folded his arms, attention entirely focused on the gambler. “And what do you mean by that? What does this plan of yours entail?”
Aventurine waved his hand as if swatting the questions out of the air. “It’s too soon to talk about that now,” he answered, a response as substantive as the air around them. “I’ll let you in on more of those details when you need to know them. For now,” he tapped the paper in Ratio’s hand as he handed over a few more documents, “this is what you need to know.”
The doctor paused. “Do you mean to tell me… this meeting could’ve been an email ?”
Aventurine barked out a laugh, startling Ratio with both its volume and unmasked sincerity. “Doctor, do you really think I would waste your precious time like that?” The scholar opened his mouth to reply, but the Stoneheart continued after the apparently rhetorical question. “No, there’s too many variables at play with the Penacony mission. The IPC wants to keep all communication off the grid - who knows who might be listening in, what with hackers like that Stellaron Hunter around.”
Ratio raised an eyebrow. “If they doubt their own security, should they not work on that instead of forcing you and the others involved to jump through hoops like this?”
Aventurine shrugged, breaking eye contact with the doctor in favor of surveying the notes splayed across his work surface. “Even those involved can only know so much,” he confessed, flipping a notebook closed. “If some people learn more than they should, it could throw the odds off.” A rueful smile crossed his face. “I’m not a numbers guy like you, doctor, but Diamond and the other Stonehearts want to keep the deck stacked in their favor as much as they can. My luck hasn’t failed me yet, but I do what I can to get the approvals through.”
The scholar frowned. “You shouldn’t pin everything on fate, regardless how fortunate your luck seems to be.”
“In the end, results are the only thing that matters. Not the method, not the odds - if you win the gamble, who cares what odds the house said you did or didn’t have?”
Ratio’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It is reckless endangerment of yourself and those working with you, gambler.”
The Stoneheart glances his way again. “You misunderstand, doctor. I would never put others in a dangerous spot like that.”
Ratio doesn’t point out Aventurine’s refusal to say the same for himself, but the distinction does not go unobserved.
“Do you have any other questions?”
Ratio shook his head, grip tightening slightly on the papers in his hand. “Not at the moment, but I’m certain some will come to mind once I review these more thoroughly.”
“Take them with you - just keep them away from prying eyes and make sure not to tell anyone about the mission.” Aventurine waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t want to take up any more of your precious time. It’s getting late - you probably have people waiting on you at home.” He hopped up from his perch on the filing cabinet and raised his arms above his head in an exaggerated stretch.
“I do not.” Ratio didn’t know why he felt the need to correct that point, but the words left his mouth without a second though. “And you? Do you not have any plans this evening?”
That damned smile flitted across the man’s face, but his eyes wandered back to the untouched stack of papers before he looked back at the doctor, snapping his fingers as if in recollection. “You’re right - I do have plans. Which I seem to be late to! Let me show you the way back and I’ll be out of your hair.”
For such a legendary gambler, the man seemed to have a terrible poker face at times.
The doctor frowned. “Working at your desk all night does not count as ‘plans’.”
“Ahaha, it seems you caught me.” Once more, he held his hands in the air, that silly smirk still gracing his face. “But you needn’t worry about me, doctor - I can take care of myself just fine.”
“If by ‘taking care of yourself’ you mean ‘working yourself to the point of passing out in a deserted corner of the IPC’s headquarters, where no one could find you’, I would agree. However,” Ratio stepped forward, fixing him with a chastising glare. “I do not think we’re on the same page when it comes to the definitions of common words, damned gambler.”
The Stoneheart’s smirk still stayed plastered in place, but the corners started to slip. Annoyance flashed through his eyes like lightning, but his tone betrayed none of those sentiments. “Like I said earlier - the results are what matters, not the means of getting there.”
“And as I’ve said, I do not agree with that half-baked logic. Life is a marathon, not a sprint. At this rate, you will be burning yourself out before you even step foot in Penacony’s dreamscape.” Ratio crossed his arms, donning a pose common in his lectures. “And how will that help your ‘results’?”
Aventurine’s eyes darkened. Before, the gambler had simply seemed to be playing with Ratio, testing his reactions, seeing what he picked up on, what he let slide. Distant, not truly invested in their conversation. Despite the breadth of expressions that graced Aventurine’s face, this one seemed to be his first true glimpse under the Avgin’s mask.
“Is it really a marathon if you can already see the finish line?” The words were muttered so quietly under Aventurine’s breath that Ratio almost missed them.
What in the Aeons’ names did he mean by that?
Before the doctor could react in any meaningful way, that damned mask slipped back over Aventurine’s pretty features as he let out another over-the-top sigh. “Fine, if you insist - I’ll head home early tonight, doctor.”
Ratio scoffed. “If this is what you would consider early, I loathe to imagine the time you normally leave.” Still - though it was a small compromise, it was certainly a win, and the scholar would see it as such.
Aventurine sighed, and though the gambler’s persistent poker face remained in place, the doctor still heard the exhaustion leak through. “You know what they say - when you’re salaried, you never really clock out at the end of the day.”
“That is a horrible philosophy to abide by. Emergencies are one thing, but…” He stopped himself. He already lectured students who refused to retain his advice at the university - he didn’t need to do the same to a Stoneheart who would stubbornly pursue his goal in his own self-destructive way. “Just - do not overextend yourself. You are not the sole competent individual in the IPC. Do not forget that you have allies that wish to see you succeed.”
The Stoneheart gave him a long look. “I thought you were smarter than that, doc. Look around you - the others in the rat race around here are just waiting to see me fail and fall down the ranks - and that’s the best case scenario.” The Avgin crossed his arms, not breaking that smug gaze. “Tell me - would you relax and trust people like that?”
“I, for one, am not concerned with the inner politics of the IPC. At the very least, you can rest assured that I can pull my own weight while we work together.”
Aventurine held the scholar’s gaze, poker face as solid as the doctor’s marble bust. “What is your game here, Ratio?”
“Pardon?”
“I mean, everyone has one.” The gambler absentmindedly twirled a poker chip between his fingers, eyes never leaving the scholar’s face. “An angle you’re going for, an end goal in mind - your motivation in all of this. I know the Intelligentsia Guild despises working with the IPC, they’ve made that crystal clear. So why, with all that in mind, are you being so…” Aventurine trailed off. In the silence, he tossed the chip in the air before catching it one-handed in a single smooth motion.
“It’s not that complex - I merely stand by the belief that life, even the lives of fools, is worth living. I would be upset to stand back and watch you or anyone else perish due to mistakes I could have prevented.”
Aventurine blinked, and Ratio could see the cogs in his mind turning his words over, examining them from every angle. “You are certainly something, doctor.” He glanced down at the chip in his hand. “But I don’t think it’ll do you any favors to worry about my well-being.”
Ratio raised an eyebrow. “If I don’t, who will? You certainly don’t seem to be concerned with your own health.”
Though the question had not been rhetorical, the gambler made no reply. The silence stretched on between them until only the memory of those words remained, hanging in the air.
“Like you said, it’s getting late.” The Stoneheart shattered the stillness as he turned to collect the rest of the papers. “Let me show you the way out.”
“No need. I know where the door is.” Ratio stood up and began to retrace his earlier steps.
“...One last question, doctor.”
The doctor paused. “Go on.”
The stillness after his words persisted longer than he anticipated. The gambler was never one to leave the quiet be for longer than a handful of moments - perhaps part of his nature as a facilitator eager to get on with whatever scheme he initiated. As the silence grew, Ratio glanced over his shoulder.
Aventurine’s eyes were fixed on him, appraising him. His fingers shifted around - not his usual embossed poker chips that he tended to play with, but a golden charm, one that the doctor had not seen on his person. The worn metal had clearly seen better days, but that time-worn look made it all the more apparent that it meant something to him. After all, to the gambler and his associates, appearances were everything.
Whatever had been weighing on the Stoneheart's mind seemed to shift, bringing back the lighter smile. “...Nevermind. I think I figured it out.”
“Good,” Ratio paused before adding, “It seems you have more sense than many of my students - not asking simple questions when they already know the answer.”
“Oh, is that a compliment from the Dr. Ratio I’m hearing?” Aventurine’s grin seemed to reach his eyes as the teasing began.
Ratio sighed, shaking his head. “I should know better than to say anything at all by this point.” Despite the straightforwardness of his words, his tone carried no bite.
“Well… thanks anyway, doctor.” Aventurine picked up the documents. “I’m looking forward to working with you on Penacony.”
“Just don’t do anything unnecessarily dangerous, and I’d say the same.” Ratio nodded. “Please keep in touch - I will let you know my questions in regards to the information you provided.”
With that, the doctor took his leave, stepping over the various reports and assignments that had been cataloged and forgotten as he made his way to the door.
Behind him, Aventurine sighed as he prepared to follow. “I’ll keep in touch, and…” his voice grew quiet, words barely registering in his own ears before the sounds fell silent. “...I can’t make any promises, doctor - even for you and your big heart.”
“You need to stop doing this, you know.” An echo of his sister, lost to time but not the depths of his dreams and his dearest memories, sat behind him in the sand, carding her fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame the wild blonde strands. “Putting yourself in danger and risky situations - you could hurt yourself.”
In this strange dream, he was aware of who he was - who he would grow up to be, what would befall her and him and their clan. Yet here, he was also Kakavasha - a small boy with innocent eyes and hands that had yet to take a life.
Someone who was loved.
At his lack of response, she sighed, continuing her work untangling unruly knots. “Kakavasha… I won’t always be here. The goddess will call me home, you know this as well as I. I want to know that you will take care of yourself the way I try to, or… that you will find someone to help pull you out of your messes in the way I try to.”
He can feel her hands on his scalp, loosely tying his hair back. “I don’t know if I can,” he told her, his childlike voice cracking under the weight of this simple honesty. He squeezed his eyes tight as his tears, a rare resource in this forsaken desert and an uncommon sight on his face. “I don’t… I wish you didn’t have to go.”
He felt her hands move away from his head and leaned in as her arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer to her chest. “I wish we had more time, but you know as well as I that when Gaiathra calls, our time has come.”
Slowly, he lifted his head to meet her gaze. Her eyes looked like the deep puddles formed along the streets of Pier Point after a heavy rainfall, collecting so many discarded from the urban rivers that formed. He knew this mirage of her knew what her future held, where she was in the present day.
“But, despite whatever has happened - and whatever will happen - you are Kakavasha. You are the boy blessed by Gaiathra Triclops, the boy who risked himself to preserve our memories of our parents - and you are my little brother. Whatever the world takes away from you, that will always be you.” She grabbed his hands and held them tightly between hers. “You have lost so much, little brother. But that doesn’t mean you did not deserve the good things and the good people who have crossed your path. And when people come along who are worthy of your trust, do not be afraid to show them those parts of yourself.
Easier said than done with the way he had to constantly keep looking over his shoulders to make sure his cards were set just right, that no one could play him for a fool, that no one noticed his hand shaking under the table. Yet here, he could almost believe her.
With the gentleness he remembered, she opened his hand and held it up to her palm. He looked up at her, and her eyes twinkled like the stars they watched on long nights in the desert together, like the countless flaming spheres he flew by after he was taken from that home. Do you remember? they seemed to ask. And yes - of course he did.
How could he forget?
His voice blended with hers as he drew up those memories from the time before everything was taken, closing his eyes as he held them tightly in his mind.
“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you,
Keeping your blood eternally pulsing.
May your journey be forever peaceful,
And your schemes be forever concealed.”
He heard his sister’s voice, drifting through the darkness.
“Farewell, Kakavasha.”
Then he heard his voice whisper back to her.
“May we meet again under the Kakava’s shimmering auroras.”
The dream faded to black, and the boy could finally sleep.