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With enough strong wine and reason to drink it in excess, Bridge Four erupted into a cacophony of joyful shouts and laughter. Huio had bonded an honorspren and spoken the First Ideal, and the party ensued from there.
Tonight, Rlain stuck to the red. Enough to loosen himself up, but not so much that he lost his common sense. He was a stupid drunk, and the collection of Windrunners stuck to the ceiling of the mess hall was a sign that there were already enough fools among them.
Teft sipped his sweet pink and shook his head as they watched The Lopen peel off a rafter and fall head-first into a crowd of whooping squires. "Think that'll knock any sense into him?"
Rlain attuned Amusement. It was a Rhythm that flowed easier with a couple glasses of wine in him. "I hope not. If we add another one of us to brood in the dark it might scare the squires away."
"So sane men are the ones with nothing to smile about?"
"Sane bridgemen are." The past few years had cut sharper edges into Rlain's sense of humor; it was surprisingly therapeutic.
A rare smile from Teft. "Nice one."
They toasted each other, unsaid relief for their change in fortune passing between them.
Teft let out a yawn. He looked out to the crowd of party-goers, sizing up their drunkenness.
"Sticking around just long enough to be polite, then getting out of here?" Rlain asked.
"Mhmm. You too?"
"Probably." Because this was Teft, Rlain felt comfortable adding honestly, "If I stay too long I'll become as miserable as you." These celebrations were nicer back when Rlain could hope that his would be next. At least the wine was free.
Teft let out a laugh. "You're too young for that. My kind of grouch only comes with age." He nodded at Rlain's glass of wine. "Like that stuff."
Rlain attuned Skepticism, but didn't press. He could quip back and say that Teft should try living with carapace, but he'd used up enough dark humor for tonight—any more would actually sour his mood.
Teft clapped his thighs and stood, then shrugged out the stiffness from his back. He put a hand on Rlain's shoulder and said, "The next one will be yours."
"Do you mean that?" Rlain asked. Empty niceties weren't Teft's style, but maybe Rlain was extra pitiable to him.
Teft grunted and gave Rlain a friendly squeeze. "The next one should be yours. That I can swear to you. But the world ain't always right."
He left then, lips moving as he muttered over his shoulder, likely saying something to his unseen spren.
Rlain sighed. So much for keeping himself in good spirits. The rejection of spren was salt to wounds left by humans.
With Teft making an early exit, Rlain should be fine to leave whenever he pleased now; he'd already said congratulations to Huio.
He scanned the party to check if there were any tables of runaround setting up—he'd stick around for a few games. Might win a pocketful of clearchips, too.
Instead, Rlain's eyes landed on another point of interest. Renarin had somehow got himself into the thick of the noise and the crowd (he was easy to spot, with those Riran locks of gold in his hair). Elbows were poking into him from all sides as drinks were passed among the tight pack of squires in blue. His face was wrenched into a wince, which deepened with each celebratory shout by his ears.
He looked as miserable as a Herald on Braize.
That made for an easy decision.
Rlain attuned Confidence and wove his way over. A nice perk of his height and carapace was that it was easy to get through a crowd like this. Someone offered him a shot of Horneater white, which he paused to turn down. He appreciated the gesture, though.
He didn't want to just grab Renarin out of the blue, so he put on a wide smile and announced himself by saying, "Mind if I steal this one away?" He offered his arm to Renarin.
Renarin clutched his sleeve like a lifeline and mouthed, "Thank you."
After exchanging some of the customary turns of phrase that humans used in place of Rhythms, Rlain escorted them out of there, Renarin slouched and shrunken and pressed against him.
It wasn't the kind of rescue that came from Radiance, but it felt just as important.
The air was much cooler outside. No more of the sweat and heat of too many bodies crammed together. Rlain felt a ringing in his ears, echoes from the laughter and shouting before. He hadn't realized how loud it'd gotten until he was greeted with the peaceful silence of Urithiru in the late hours of the night.
Nomon shone bright blue, making shadows of the stone arches that opened the tower to the skyline of mountains.
"Are you okay?" Rlain asked quietly. Renarin was still gripping his sleeve.
"I need a minute," said Renarin, taking slow, deliberate breaths. "But it's much better now."
Rlain hummed to Peace. The lovely thing about the Rhythms was that he didn't feel awkward in the silence where Renarin clammed up and words only hurt more than they helped. It was a small song that said "I'm still here."
Finally, Renarin let go of him and said, "A year ago, I probably would've had one of my fits in there. A bad one. Now I have no idea what triggers them—the new ones. Sometimes it feels like a step backwards."
Rlain hadn't known Renarin back then, so he took him at his word. They leaned against the railing and looked to the sky together, elbows resting on old stone.
"I wish I didn't have to fight with myself so much to enjoy these," Renarin muttered. "Parties are supposed to be fun."
"I… Completely understand that," said Rlain. As he gazed at the stars, he noticed the constellations weren't in the places he'd expect for the time of year. Halfway across Roshar and the view had changed; this wasn't his sky. "But maybe not for the same reason as you."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Rlain attuned Irritation. "I wish I didn't have to explain so much. It 's tiring. I'd like… I'd like to not only be listened to, but understood. So maybe I wouldn't have to put all that pain out there all the time. It wears me out." He followed his words by humming Reconciliation, to convey that he wasn't annoyed at Renarin despite his venting. Even if the human wouldn't understand the nuance, Renarin was getting better at recognizing the pattern in which rhythms paired with Rlain's mood.
"I get that." Renarin put a hand on Rlain's arm. Now offering support instead of seeking it. "I wish more people…and spren tried for you."
The touch—rare from Renarin—made Rlain feel warm. He took this comfort and let it be a balm to the ache in his chest.
Renarin was a reality check. A reminder to Rlain of what he deserved. And someone who could understand that Rlain's persistent kindness in the face of it all was a measure of thick-shelled stubbornness, not weakness.
Renarin continued, "I think... I think we've gotten swept up in the return of the Knights Radiant. It sounds ridiculous coming from me, but we had our heroes before the spren came to form bonds. Great people who we looked up to, and not all of them have bonded a spren. It would be impossible. That doesn't mean we should just cast that admiration away."
His words made Rlain think of Eshonai, and Rlain attuned Mourning. It was like prodding an old scar when the new wounds hadn't scabbed over yet.
"Sorry," said Renarin, looking at his hands.
He'd understood?
"Don't," said Rlain. "You just made me think of someone who I miss. You're right. It's easy to find new ways to make a quick judgment about someone, without having to go through the trouble of actually knowing them, isn't it?"
"Yeah." Renarin exhaled slowly, as though he was relieved. "You say it better than I can."
Then he touched his chest with his free hand, furrowed his brows, and said, "My spren wants to know if he can talk to you."
"Glys? Why does he ask?"
Renarin shrugged. "He's waiting for you to say yes."
"Of course."
A shy mote of crystalline light emerged from Renarin's chest. His spren. Rlain hummed low notes of Awe.
Glys spoke, and Rlain could hear him clear as a bell. "I … Hide often. From everyone—human and spren. Because of what I am. Because they will not understand."
A shimmer of red light rippled through the spren's glass form. Was he nervous?
"But that is not why I hide from you. "
Rlain attuned Anticipation.
"It is not you. It is because of me. Because I am also of Odium. Of the Other Storm. It is not all of me! But it is there. And I do not want to drive you away from your friend with that reminder."
"Oh, Glys," Rlain started. He looked to Renarin, who seemed surprised, but didn't interject.
Out of everyone in Urithiru, Rlain could claim disdain for Glys, given what the Voidspren had done to his people. What they were capable of inflicting upon Rlain. The thought of a presence like that in his gemheart made it beat to the Terrors.
But Glys was no Voidspren.
"I've never been afraid of you," Rlain said to Confidence. "It never occurred to me. Maybe, there is a small resemblance to a Voidspren, but I know what it means to have that be all one can see in you. How that feels. I… I'm glad for you, Glys."
"You don't think Sja-anat's spren could present a danger to you?" Renarin asked.
"We do draw upon power that only belongs to him." Glys added.
"It's not supposed be like that, right? Like when you mix two colors of paint and get, uh, a different color…" Shouldn't have even touched a metaphor involving art. Storming warform was useless for that.
Renarin smiled. "I think that's right." He gave Rlain's arm a small squeeze, then let go. Rlain wished he wouldn't.
"Then … You will see me more often, Rlain!" Glys pulsed in a pattern that reminded Rlain of the Rhythm of Excitement.
Rlain responded with Joy.
They enjoyed the night air in peace until the wind changed and brought a chill from the mountains. Rlain felt tiredness pull on him. Renarin yawned.
"It's getting late," said Rlain.
"It is. Are you going to turn in for the night?"
"I should."
"Can I walk you back?" Renarin must be sensitive to the cold, because his cheeks and nose looked flushed.
"I'd like the company." One talk couldn't fix every ache, but for tonight, Rlain felt lighter. He'd like to take that all the way to bed with him.
"I will … remain outside for that!" Glys chimed, hovering between the two.
Who could say that a Nahel bond with a spren was the only kind that mattered?