Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Tonight’s the longest night of the year,” said Bashasa. 

Kai glanced up at him from where he was picking his way through the mud. They were walking through a wetland, following one of the few relatively dry paths that wound past the wet grass and reeds. Nominally, they were supposed to be scouting out a route to potentially sneak up on the Hierarchs’ forces that were supposed to be coming through this area, but Bashasa wasn’t really necessary for that. Kai had a feeling that Ziede had sent them out here mostly to make Bashasa take a break. 

“It is,” said Kai slowly. He stepped around a small bush. “Is that important?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bashasa shrug. “Not really. It’s something we used to celebrate.” 

Kai frowned a little. “Should we celebrate it? Is it important for the soldiers’ morale?” 

“No, no, it’s fine. It was never a formal celebration, just something to do with family or friends. They’ll celebrate on their own if they want to.” 

“Oh,” said Kai. They were silent for a moment, focusing on their path and trying to keep their feet dry. “Do you want to celebrate it?”

Kai glanced up at Bashasa again. Bashasa’s brow furrowed and his nose scrunched up a little as he thought about the question. The air was cold — not nearly as cold as it could get in the grassplains, when the wind howled and roared over the empty plains and the rare snow covered the ground, but cold nonetheless — and Bashasa had a scarf up over his nose to protect himself from the bite in the breeze. The combined effect was a little bit adorable. 

“I don’t have time,” said Bashasa. 

“That’s not an answer.”

Bashasa huffed a small laugh. “I suppose not. I would like to celebrate, if I could. Or at least I miss the days when I could celebrate without worrying. With my family.”

Kai could feel Bashasa’s mood shifting to melancholy and tried to head it off. “Yes, the glorious days when you didn’t have to put up with me and Tahren and Ziede.”

That got a real laugh out of Bashasa. “Exactly. You all will be the death of me.”

“I hope not,” said Kai. There were another few moments of silence. “How did you celebrate?”

“There was a lot of singing,” said Bashasa wistfully. “And games. It was a good time to work out any family rivalries with friendly competition.” 

Kai considered that. “It doesn’t sound too time-consuming. Your cadre would probably be willing to celebrate with you.” 

“Would you?”

“What?” 

“Would you be willing to celebrate with me?” 

Somehow, Kai had not been expecting that. It was an Arike tradition, not one he knew. He kept forgetting that he was not entirely an outsider here anymore. He felt Bashasa looking at him, and some of his confusion must have shown on his face.

“The tradition is to celebrate with people close to us,” Bashasa explained. He paused, then said, “I hope that after everything we’ve been through, I can call you a friend.”

Kai wasn’t sure that friendship was quite the right word for the swirling, warm mixture of loyalty-determination-love-devotion-fealty-care Bashasa inspired in him, but now was not the time to untangle all of that. 

“Of course,” he said. “Always.”

Bashasa smiled. 

The vague path they had been following descended into the mud and water for several paces. Kai picked his way through, grimacing as some water splashed up onto his leggings, then held out his hand to help Bashasa across. Bashasa’s hand was cold against Kai’s. When they got across the mud, Kai shrugged out of his coat and handed it to Bashasa. 

Bashasa looked like he was about to refuse, so Kai said, “I’m a demon. I don’t get cold as easily as you.”

“I thought you get cold and hungry more easily in your new body,” said Bashasa, because he was far too observant for his own good. 

“I’m still a demon. Take the coat.” 

Bashasa took the coat. He seemed warmer once he put it on. They kept walking.

“I’m a terrible singer,” said Kai. 

“What?”

“If we do the celebration. You said there’s singing. You should know beforehand.”

Bashasa laughed again. The sound did something funny to Kai’s chest. “The warning is appreciated. You should not worry, though. I doubt I am any better.”

Kai grinned. “Now I have to hear this.”

Bashasa groaned, and Kai clapped his shoulder with a laugh. 

They kept walking. The wetlands seemed to spread out in front of them forever. The green of grasses that were springing up in the new rains complimented the russet-browns of reeds in winter and the silver patches of clear water reflecting the overcast sky, like the colors on a beautiful coat or a painting on canvas. 

“Did the Saredi celebrate at all?” Bashasa asked eventually. 

“They gave each other gifts,” said Kai. “To get through the darkness.” His hand drifted to his belt, where his Kentdessa clan sigil was bound today. Grandmother had given it to him the first time he lived through the longest night in the mortal world. 

“I like that,” said Bashasa. 

His own hand went to tug Kai’s coat tighter around himself. Then he glanced down at it and his brows furrowed. He looked back up at Kai, who looked away and shifted nervously. He hadn’t really intended the coat to be that kind of gift, but the gesture was so like to what a Saredi might do that the distinction seemed meaningless. 

Bashasa seemed to want to ask about it but not sure what to say. Kai kept walking and tried to ignore the awkward nerves in his chest. The wind rustled the reeds around them. Flocks of ducks called to each other, and somewhere a bird that Kai did not recognize sang shrilly. 

Then there was another sound — a trilling, rattling call that echoed low over the water — and Kai stopped in his tracks. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Bashasa, but Kai held up a hand for silence as he turned around, searching for the source of the call. He found it and laughed with disbelieving delight. 

“What is it?” Bashasa asked again, and Kai pointed to a patch of grass and reeds across a large pond. 

“The cranes,” he said. They were almost hidden in the grass, blending in surprisingly well for such large birds, but they could be made out when one knew to look for them. They were tall:  long-necked, long-legged, and elegant. Their feathers were a smooth grey except for the deep red patch on their foreheads. They were foraging in the reeds — looking, Kai knew, for any interesting roots, grains, or creatures they could catch in their long, knifelike beaks. 

“They’re lovely,” said Bashasa, though he seemed a little confused at Kai’s reaction. 

“They lived in the grassplains,” said Kai, still not quite believing his eyes. “They were everywhere in the summer.” He had once spent hours with Adeni just watching them. He was new to the mortal world then, and the birds had been the most startling and beautiful things he had seen in his short time there. 

“Oh,” said Bashasa, and the understanding in his voice made something in Kai relax. 

“They were the clan sigil of the Elinvassa tent,” said Kai. “They were migratory, they left in the summer. They must have been coming here.” 

“You didn’t know?”

“No. Maybe others did. I’m not sure.”

They watched the cranes in a companionable quiet for several long moments. Kai had not expected to find a small piece of home here, so far away. He could not quite decide if he felt more grief or joy at the thought. But he thought, maybe, that confusion might be all right for now. 

Sowly, another sound began to fill the silence. Kai turned and looked up to see a huge flock of different birds approaching them. There must have been hundreds of them. They were big — some kind of goose, Kai thought, though they looked small from this distance. They were flying in formation. Kai had seen small flocks of geese fly in shapes like the tip of an arrow before, but these formed long chains and lines, twisting and breaking and re-forming as they flew like dancers in the air. 

“They’re snow geese,” said Bashasa. “They migrate, too. They pass over Benais-arik sometimes.” 

The geese flew high over them, the beating of their wings and their honking calls swelling to a cacophony even to the listeners on the ground. They flew past, then descended until they landed in a distant stretch of waterway. Kai and Bashasa stared after them for a long moment. 

“That was beautiful,” said Bashasa. Kai made a wordless sound of agreement. He was smiling. 

After a few long moments, Bashasa sighed. “We should return to the camp. It will get dark soon.” 

Kai resisted the urge to sigh as well. “We shouldn’t get stuck out here on the longest night of the year.”

“Exactly.” 

With one last glance at the cranes, Kai turned away. He and Bashasa began to pick their way back through the wetlands. The water shone under the slowly darkening sky. A group of ducks flew overhead. Kai could distantly hear the geese, still honking. 

“If you’re celebrating with me tonight like the Arike do,” said Bashasa after a while, “I feel like I should give you a Saredi gift. It seems only fair.”

“This is good,” said Kai, not quite able to keep the earnestness out of his voice. “This is enough.” 

Bashasa smiled at him, and Kai had to look away to avoid tripping on a tussock of grass. 

The gentle breeze was growing stronger. Kai was glad he had given Bashasa the coat. The chill would have been uncomfortable for a human. His hair blew in the wind, flickering into his face. He pushed it away. 

Bashasa stopped walking, untied the blue sash around his waist that had been keeping his tunics in place, and gestured Kai over. Gently, he set it around Kai’s head and tied it in place, creating a makeshift headband to keep his hair back. 

“There,” he said softly. “Now we’re even.” 

Kai raised his hand to touch Bashasa’s where it rested on the side of his head. Bashasa turned his hand until he could lace his fingers with Kai’s. His fingers were still cool. Kai hoped his own hand would help keep Bashasa’s warm. 

Bashasa stepped back but did not release Kai’s hand. Kai could not bring himself to mind. He had long since learned that Bashasa was genuine in his lack of fear when he touched Kai, but every now and then, it still took him by surprise. Bashasa smiled at him, and this time, Kai smiled back. 

Hand in hand, they walked back to the camp.