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Meizan sat on a low stool in Aranel’s childhood home, sharpening his recently-returned nagamor headed sword. In a skirmish between Kanjallen and a dozen of Kaldrav’s soldiers, he lassoed it with his chitrons right from the hands of some whelp who couldn’t even grip it correctly.
Beside him, Aranel paced and gestured around to various rocks, shells and other trinkets he’d moved from his bedroom to the kitchen table: all laid out in Aranel’s habitual spiral pattern. Meizan had been tuning in and out the past hour of the other boy’s ramblings and non-stop gestures. Over all the moons Meizan had gotten to know the other boy, these “oddities' ' or “annoyances” became a part of Meizan’s understanding of Aranel. If a nagamor could not change its gaze, then Aranel could not change his ways. Meizan was simply glad today’s topic of interest wasn’t the complexities of Toranic Law as prescribed in the Song of Salvation.
As the sound of rock against steel ceased, Aranel seemed pulled from his trance as he saw Meizan looking at him intently. Aranel seemed to have finally realized his movements and quickly sat down and folded his hands on his lap. “Pardon me,” he muttered, eyes cast to the table in front of him, “For the childish, childish, childish…”
The Mayani repeated that last word a few more times before falling silent. Meizan noted Aranel’s swift negative change in mood and hoped his next actions could remedy it.
He stood up and circled his sword a few times before sheathing it. Meizan inwardly laughed at Aranel’s quick facial change. No matter how many times Meizan twirled and sheathed his prized sword, Aranel always looked at him with what Meizan could only conclude as amazement. And the two boys had already sparred twice that day.
Meizan dug in his pockets and quickly grabbed his creation.
“Here,” he said and stuck his arm out to Aranel, “This is for you and your hand gestures.”
Aranel blinked, rose, and took the stone creation. “Thank you. But what is it?”
It was three intricately engraved prongs connected to a circle in the middle that if you held with the thumb and forefinger, one could flick and spin. The idea had been birthed from the first throwing star he’d channeled in Mayana. The ambient chitrons of this realm were so malleable that it almost felt euphoric. He knew the Upper loved earthen artifacts and the spinner was easily channelable if Aranel needed a throwing star or knife.
Aranel closely examined his gift and made it spin while Meizan replied, “It’s for when you want to move but you’re with people who call it childish. Honestly, whoever called you that was an Upper with too much time to judge in their soft life.”
Upon that last word, Aranel laughed and stopped his spinning to give Meizan an overjoyed smile that made his heart swell. He had succeeded then. For Aranel was a lot of things—far too idealistic and at times naive—but childish he was not. A child could not fight and protect others as Aranel had.
Meizan noticed the closeness of he and the Upper, but he didn’t mind as they’d been this close sparring time and time again. It was this proximity that allowed Meizan to see the red blushing across the other boy’s cheeks. This seemed to happen to Aranel often though Meizan could never tell why.
Aranel beamed at him and said, “I could kiss you!”
“What’s a kiss?”
Aranel’s green eyes widened and he sputtered, “You don’t—It’s—Ah, don’t kill me.”
And the other boy tugged Meizan toward him and instead of some sort of hit or trip, pressed his lips to Meizan’s. It was an odd sensation Meizan had never seen nor experienced before. It was not unpleasant, the comfort in Aranel was still there even if it was two pairs of lips clashing instead of swords. So, Meizan returned the lean into his partner until he felt Aranel stiffen. He took a step back as Aranel did the same. The other boy was frantically grimacing and poking out his tongue. This made Meizan burst out laughing and ask, “Was that some sort of Mayani esteemed thanks? Because I don’t know if that was correct.”
“Ugh!” Aranel shook his head, “Sam always said kissing someone you love was romantic! He never told me it would taste like lunch! And did you use any of the Mayani mouthwash like I told you too?”
Meizan frowned and said, “No.”
What Aranel said had his brain running around with no clear destination. Not about the mouthwash—but love and romantic—these were two things he only recently and briefly learned about.
Meizan recalled a conversation with Aina from a few moons ago:
“I can’t believe I had a spout of ‘being in love’ with Aranel for a few moons. Have you ever felt that? You two seem to spend a lot of time together.”
“What do you mean? Aranel was obviously an informant during that time—what is a “spout of love?”
She blinked at him, “You know, little flutterings in your stomach, maybe you forget your words or you blush. There’s a notion in your mind that you and someone could do…whatever two people that deeply care for each other do. I saw it in Mayana—never with my parents—there’s an invisible energy between people when they love or even have a time when they think they’re in love with someone. You’ve never noticed?”
And Meizan didn’t understand. He also couldn’t believe Aina had ever had those thoughts about Aranel, especially before the Upper had loosened up a bit. But for Meizan, there were people he cared for: Aranel, Aina, and Kanjallen. There were those he simply didn’t know and then there were enemies. Now Meizan had a bit more context for what Aina had meant. Yet, he felt none of what she described.
Aranel had gone to wash his mouth out and came back, lightly tapping Meizan on the back as he did so. Aranel asked him, “Well, how was it? Are you mad? I believe I’ll get used to it eventually…”
Meizan knew that the last statement was doubtful, Aranel was deeply sensitive to taste and at times textures.
Aranel picked at the table with one finger while Meizan started, “Aranel,” Meizan rubbed the nagamor head hilt at his waist, “I care for you as I care for Aina and—”
The other boy interrupted him, “You care for me the same as Aina?!”
“No! Just wait for me to finish and make sense of what’s in my head! Us Malini don’t go around squawking our feelings.”
Aranel nodded and Meizan tried again, “I care for you. Not more or less than Aina or my clan. But I do care for you differently. I do…love you. But I didn’t feel anything significant other than your lips during that kiss. I never get flutterings around people like you and Aina. I can tell that I never will. But Aranel, I don’t feel comfortable trying a ‘kiss’ with Aina or one of my clanmates. Being close to you feels good and that’s all I need.”
Meizan looked at Aranel who had his eyes trained on the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. Aranel finally spoke and asked, “So, I didn’t scare you off with a kiss? Because I love our time together.”
Meizan nodded in return.
Aranel smiled and said, “You know we make a great pair…? Partners?”
“We make our own little clan,” Meizan said.
He smiled as Aranel beamed and splayed his hands out in joy. Aranel softly repeated the word “clan” a few times. Then, he held out a hand and said, “I’m not interested in trying another kiss for a while. Maybe I’ll talk to Sam about how it works…but, but, but are you fine with holding hands?”
Meizan clasped the other boy’s hand and lightly rubbed his thumb over Aranel’s knuckles. He kept in mind how Aranel smiled and shifted closer to him. Meizan replied, “It doesn’t make a difference to me whether you like to kiss or not—I don’t even get the purpose of it,” Aranel laughed at that. “Now,” suggested Meizan, “Shall we go sit in the meadow and ensure you can adequately turn that harmless spinner into a weapon. Sherka knows you’ll need it.”
He tugged Aranel to the doorway as the Upper laughed and replied, “Honestly, I had no idea it was even possible for you to channel without something exploding. You’ll tell me how you managed this incredible feat?”
“Of course, you ass.”
“Meizan, we aren’t breaking any clan rules by making our own?”
“As long as I don’t start scarring my face or bearing a mark they don’t give a shit.”
And the two boys soaked up the sun and only worried about today. And whatever changed between them in years to come, they accepted dutifully. And sometimes the greatest gift of all is having someone to talk to or hand to hold during the good times and the bad.