Work Text:
“...and I cannot even begin to imagine what that must be like, locked in a thousand-year stalemate where the only options are eternal stagnation or the death of that which you hold dearest of all.”
Herald has chosen Genia's study for this dream.
Raziel doesn't mind; at least that means he can enjoy a cup of tea while he rambles in this space between dusk and dawn. Above the tiny desk he's currently seated at, silver moonlight filters in through the small porthole window, newly freed from its eclipse prison, and meets the warm golden lantern glow from within the chamber in a tranquil embrace. Poetic, considering the circumstances of the day.
“...and then you are presented with a miracle, a way out, the perfect solution, but it vanishes out of your grasp for circumstances outside of your knowledge or control and you are back at the start, abandoned, betrayed... it was her good right to call him traitor’s offspring, even if it wasn’t the truth.”
Herald wanders through the study while Raz lets out his thoughts, their head tilted slightly towards him, indicating that they’re listening intently. Every once in a while, they pick up an object from the shelf and inspect it with curious fingers that are sometimes fur-tipped, sometimes taloned. Their wings produce an ever so soft whisper when the plumage drags across the floorboards.
“Goodness, can you imagine? She knew exactly how many years it had been, she must have been counting... that moment of time where it has been too long to be reasonable, but not yet long enough to abandon all hope, and you are faced with the same choice again, but this time you also have to consider: If you go through with it, and it turns out you just needed to wait a little longer, it will all have been your fault. I could never... I couldn’t have... I simply could not.” Raz shakes his head, still frazzled, and takes a sip from his tea. It’s Earl Grey, pleasantly warm. He wonders if Herald chose it or his subconscious.
A warm chuckle precedes the reply when Herald finally turns towards him and looks at him out of ageless features crinkled with mirth: “You need not fret, Raziel. Time moves differently to a draconic mind. What fate they suffered was terrible, but it may become but a footnote in a long, prosperous life. They are the closest thing to immortal your world can bring forth.” Whenever their lips catch a stray beam of moonlight, the skin shimmers like bronze.
“Continuing to live doesn’t make it any less terrible”, Raz murmurs, and Herald’s smile widens: “You are learning.” They gently put the framed anatomical diagram they were holding back onto the shelf and fully turn, ivory feathers quietly rustling. “You speak true: It will always be and always have been terrible. But the road of life will stretch onward, and the hurt will look smaller and smaller on the horizon.”
“I suppose...” Raz absentmindedly rubs his thumb across the handle of the teacup. He feels Herald’s presence next to him more than he hears them approach, then a hand is placed on his shoulder. It doesn’t quite feel right – more so like someone projecting the idea of what they think it might feel like being touched in this manner with no prior experience – but it is warm and comforting all the same. “You did a marvellous deed today”, Herald says, “and the spirit of the world will be thankful for your service. I’m proud of you.”
That still feels weird. “...thank you, Herald.”
Herald smiles and nods their head gracefully. “I am delighted to hear about your newfound exploits. Does it suit you, being an adventurer?”
“I don’t know yet if it suits me, per se, but...”
“But?”
“Let’s just say wielding a blade on a fencing track is something wholly different than wielding one on the bottom of the ocean between dry corals and giant molluscs.”
“It certainly seems to produce a smile like the fencing track never could.”
“Oh Lord, does it?” Raz instinctively touches his cheeks, embarrassed.
“It is nothing to be self-conscious of”, Herald encourages him, “How is our Lord’s magic treating you?”
“Quite well, quite well. I am and continue to be incredibly thankful for His gifts.”
“You will achieve wondrous things with them, I am convinced.” They gaze out of the porthole window into the conjured emptiness of stark moonlight. Raz doesn’t fail to notice the sly avian eye turned his way. He still doesn’t quite know how much of his thoughts they can glean or read through their divine connection, but he does know that they sense when there is something he wants to talk about. Especially when he doesn’t seem to know how to approach it.
“What about the sailormen?”, Herald asks with a mischievously cocked head, and Raz feels his face heat. Oh dear. Bull’s eye. “Which of the four?”, he mumbles and hides his flush behind a big gulp of tea. It never burns in his dreams. For a moment, he wishes it would.
Herald laughs, a water-clear sound, and elegantly takes their place on the opposite chair. “Which do you wish do tell me about?”
“Is that really what you want to hear?”, Raziel tries to deflect and only receives a raised eyebrow for his meagre effort.
“The baker, then”, Herald decides.
Raz snickers: “I think Kalel would be quite piqued if he heard you reduced him to the baker.”
“Which terminology would you choose?”
“I don’t know, artist? Magician? God of Spoon and Skillet? Have you seen the sushi rolls? They were so beautiful you’d hardly want to eat them, but they taste even better than they look. You should have one before we leave this ship, it might be our last chance.”
“Consuming mortal foods is quite difficult without physical form.”
“Have you ever tried?”
“It is not my place to wander the earth”, Herald smiles, albeit a bit mournfully. “I will feast on your memory of their grandeur.” Raz squints at them, cocking his head to try and get a read on the timeless divine being in front of him, but his attempts slip off a wall of gold and placid smile. He purses his lips. “Well, I still think you should try. At least once. Some time.”
“Some time”, Herald repeats, unclear if it’s an agreement or simply a way to placate Raziel. “You like his company?”
“Whose, Kalel’s? Yes, of course. Who wouldn’t, let’s be real? He’s a sunshine to be around.” He puts the teacup down with a quiet clink. “Well, I suppose Bem seemed a little put off by him. But he seemed a little put off by everyone on board. Really not in his element, the poor guy.”
“The crew did a marvellous job, opening their doors to strangers from all walks of life.”
“They did, they did. I’m very glad they granted me the opportunity, despite my lack of experience.” Raziel looks around in the room, taking in all the memorabilia he remembers Genia having in here – the bushels of dry herbs and tea hung from the ceiling, salt-cured past the point of being usable; the books on the shelves neatly categorized by name, number, genre and author; the framed naturalistic sketches and drawings that litter the walls everywhere there is space to spare. Did she draw those herself? I never actually asked. “They’re so incredibly lucky”, he murmurs. “All of them. That Caillam has found them. Or maybe they’ve found Caillam. Or both. Regardless, they found each other, and they have built something beautiful.”
“You are right, the Moondiver is truly a marvel”, Herald jests and Raz quietly laughs: “Yes, the Moondiver too. But I was rather talking about that found family deal they’ve got going on.”
“Their individual paths have crossed and intertwined into a broad road they travel together. ‘Tis a rare thing indeed.”
“They are like a bunch of one-in-a-thousand chances, all cobbled together. A captain descended from dragons, a boy fished from the sea, a warrior quite literally from a different dimension. Even their ship is the most unique thing I have ever seen or heard about. I may have tumbled into a storybook, Herald.”
“The story hasn’t yet ended”
“No, it hasn’t. We have yet to bake.”
“Oh?”
“Kalel promised me. I asked about his recipes for my own ventures, but he won’t let me copy them. He said I have to experience them.” Raziel grins. “I’m very excited.”
“How are your ventures into the culinary world coming along? We haven’t spoken in a while.”
Raz’ grin turns into more of a grimace while he weighs his head. “They are... going. I managed to not burn the carrot cake to crisp the last attempt, so that’s progress. I just hope I do a good enough job that Kalel doesn’t throw me out of the kitchen. I’ve already put my foot in my mouth in front of him and Wave, I don’t need to put it in the food too.”
“How have you embarrassed yourself?”
Raz screws his eyes shut while his ears heat. “Don’t make me recount it. The whole date-thing I misread and then funnelled into... I just thought... I’m not...” He rubs his temples underneath his glasses, then puts both hands together, fingers resting against his lips.
“Being immediately invited to two menage-et-troi's in quick succession on my very first excursion is... beyond strange. I don't know. Maybe I'm just too used to being off limits.”
“You were not off limits though, were you? You told me you and your wife would frequently seek your satisfaction elsewhere.”
“That was different”
“How was it different?”
“It was always... pre-planned. It was me who sought out someone a ball or gathering, and I decided to bring him along or if it was too risky depending on the situation. I'm not used to being directly approached and being able to agree without consequences. Being invited into someone else’s bedroom makes me feel...”
“Out of control?”
“Yes.”
“You like being in control.”
“Of course I do. Doesn't everybody? It gives me confidence.”
“Control makes us feel safe, but it also makes us rigid if we hang onto it too tightly.”
“Phrasing”, Raziel mutters.
“Hm?”
“Nothing.” He’s started to twist the skin around his finger that used to house the ring again. He stops when he notices it. “I didn’t get to do that, you know?”, he eventually continues. “When I was their age, I mean. Fraternizing, dating, fooling around. Hells, the one time I was caught in flagranti by an authority figure, I got kicked out of school! I can’t help but feel out of my depth, like I’m missing some crucial fundamental experience.”
Herald cocks their head. “What are you afraid of?”
“I don’t know. Making a fool of myself?” He pulls a face. “I don’t want them to think I’m some bumbling idiot who doesn’t know head from tails. I want them to like me.”
“They already like you enough to invite you into their bedchambers. I was under the impression that mortals do not just offer this highly intimate act to anybody?”
“Not usually...”
“This crucial fundamental experience you think you are missing”, Herald starts, “One time will always have to be the first time. Does it truly matter when it happens?”
“Isn’t it a bit embarrassing to have these crucial fundamental moments in your forties?”
“Would you ask an elf the same question?”
“Well, no, but...”
“Then you are being hypocritical.” Herald reaches over and gently squeezes Raziel’s hand. “Age is a waypoint, not a gate. It does not bar you from entering, nor does it close behind you.” Raziel says nothing in reply, just simply stares down at the teacup he turns in his hands.
“I suspect this sentiment does not only apply to Kalel and Wave?”, Herald prompts him and Raz scoffs: “Of course not.” He leans his elbows on the table and staples his fingers, pleasant scent of the tea just barely tickling his nose. “Hiram and Tau are even younger than them... Lord, what have I gotten myself into?”
“I sense you are more worried about them. Are you perhaps considering their proposal?”
“Of course I am considering their proposal. As nervous as I am, you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth!”
“Why not the others?”
“I...”, Raziel starts, then cuts himself off, “...have reasons.”
“Which are?” Again with the probing questions.
“Kalel and Wave are... they’re so...” He wrings his hands looking for the right word. When it doesn’t come to him, he gives up and stands, leaving the table to meander around the study. “They’re so in love”, Raziel finally says while he absentmindedly runs his finger along the dusty spines of the encyclopaedias on the shelf. “I’ve seen the way that they look at each other across the deck, how they hold hands under the table at dinner, the little heart shapes Kalel cut Wave’s potatoes into. I don’t think I could... get between that.” He picks up one of the copies and flicks through it with mild interest, but the dream doesn’t shape the letters in the right way to be understood. “Was I younger, I’d be jealous, I think. Angry and jealous, that they have what I never could. But by now it’s just mildly depressing.” Sliding the book back into the shelf, he looks back at Herald: “I’m happy for them, though. Incredibly so.”
“You think Hiram and Tau are different?”
“They feel different? I don’t think I can describe it well. It feels more... casual. Maybe because they aren’t as – in lack of a better term – sappy.” Raziel sighs, looks first around the room and then to his toes. “Or maybe I just have a type.”
Herald weighs their head: “Personal preference is a valid choice parameter. What draws you to them?”
“Many a thing you’d understand, and many a thing you wouldn’t”, Raz mutters before slowly making his way back to the table. His teacup still has the same pleasant temperature when he picks it up to drink again.
“Hiram, he... this may sound like I've gone mad, but he reminds me of my Evie.”
Herald lifts their eyebrows in surprise and curiously tilts their head: “How so?”
“I don't know if I can explain it. It's a feeling.” Raz plucks at his lip, thinking. “It’s in the way he carries himself. The way he interacts with the crew and the captain. Or, well, rather the way in which he doesn’t. I’ve seen Evie get the same around Father Jeremiah as he gets around Caillam. In different ways, of course – she was way too well-mannered to call him a coward to his face, let alone in front of the whole congregation.” He snickers to himself.
Across the table, Herald has leaned back in their chair, calmly watching. Even though their face subtly changes between every flick of lashes, the expression on it always remains warm and open, with that faint hint of a smile. They don’t prompt him again, so Raziel is allowed to sit in the silence for a moment, contemplating the memories and associations in his head. He appreciates it; even in his dreams the grief often weighs down his tongue. The faint memory of sea foam murmurs just behind his ears, quiet enough that it could be just as well the tea swashing against the porcelain cup.
“We had a fish pond”, he eventually speaks back up, “In the garden. Evie used it to grow water lilies and Feywild moss, and I'd feed the ducks that would land once in a while. We had catfish and goldfish and some koi.” He glances back up to Herald: “And every spring, like clockwork, the frogs would come. Lord, the frogs. They used it as a breeding ground I suppose, and every night they would raise such a ruckus you could barely shut your eyes. If you had only heard her talk about them, you would think they were the seventh Djebian plague. Truly, if you think Elvish is an elegant language you have never heard Evie talk about frogs. I think half my Sylvanic vocabulary is just cuss words. Little bastards she would call them, slimy disgusting freaks and slippery idiots...
And every night of the season, she would venture out with big leather boots, gloves and a bucket and collect them all along the garden edge, so they would not wander upon the road and get trampled by the horses. She put up scarecrows to ward off the cormorants, and I know her well enough to know she would personally fight a heron or two if it came down to it.” Raziel chuckles quietly. “When I saw Hiram and Sciwha interact with the snail after the fight, it... I don’t know. It came to mind.”
Herald nods slowly. Their features have shifted into something catlike, golden fuzz on their cheeks catching the light while equally golden eyes study Raziel attentively. “They have both learned to perceive their kindness as weakness, and hide it for survival. You may have met the same fate, had you not found the Lord.” They smile, revealing sharpened canines that already begin to recede again.
“Maybe. I mean, my folks at least do believe in kindness. You’d only have been chastised if you wasted it on someone who didn’t deserve it, but not for showing it generally.”
Herald looks like they want to say something, but Raziel lifts a finger and continues: “And besides, doing favours means getting favours in return, and there’s nothing aunt and uncle love more than people who owe them.”
Herald lifts an eyebrow: “Like their children owe them for board and lodging?”
“Well, we weren’t their children, so...”
“You were children nonetheless.”
Not this discussion again. “But we’re adults now. We owe them at least the time of day.” Raziel rubs his nose piercing and sighs, then keeps talking before Herald can interject with another annoying argument: “Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
“Pardon me.”
“Remember Evie’s brother, Adam? I think I told you about him, he was the one who called me-...”
“Called you a limp-wristed nincompoop and threatened to kill you in a duel?”
“...-at the function right before the announcement of the engagement, yes.”
“I recall.” Instead of an expression, features shimmer across Herald's face, briefly tweaking brow and lip into the distant image of Evelyn's younger brother before returning to their usual ever-shifting shape, as if their physical form was processing the memory.
“Well... I didn't witness it myself, but I heard other guests at the function say that Evie's father pulled him aside shortly after, and that they saw him limp out of the room behind him like a beaten dog.” He smiles bitterly to himself. “I remember that specific phrasing, like a beaten dog. I didn't think much of it at the time, I hardly knew them after all. But it does leave quite the awful taste in the mouth in hindsight.”
“Those who choose to rule by fear are often the most afraid themselves”, Herald muses, “Trust cannot be built on a foundation of fear.”
“I wish I could say that when somebody asks me about it”, Raz mutters under his breath. “In any case, I can’t stop seeing all these things that feel so familiar. And I don’t know a lot about Tau and Hiram’s background aside from, uhm... well, Hiram’s, uh, confession... but I have met Evie’s father multiple times and I understand why she compared him to Asmodeus himself on more than one occasion. Lord knows, I have nothing to complain about in comparison.”
“Her suffering does not invalidate yours”, Herald says and Raziel chuckles: “Funny. That's the same thing Tau said to me.”
“They speak wisely.”
“Yes, they do. Although I can't help but imagine the regrettable circumstances that bred such wisdom.”
“You two had a conversation, had you not?”
“We did, we did”
“How did it go?”
“It was nice! Tau is... very charming. Quick-witted and much more intelligent than they let on. Nimble fingers. He showed me the ropes”, Raziel grins expectantly, but Herald doesn’t seem to get the joke. “I think his openness took me off guard. They read me too well and I got... scared.”
“You are dissatisfied with the interaction?”
“I don’t know. I just wish it could have lasted longer. But I kind of... shut down when we started talking about the recent past. Which is so frustrating because I approached the topic! It’s like my heart wants to talk about these things but my mind doesn’t know how.”
“Do not worry, Raziel, it will come in time. Remember what I said earlier? It will seem smaller the further you travel away.” They quirk their lip: “Even if you lifespan is much shorter than a dragon’s.”
“Gee, thanks”, Raz mutters, though unable to repress the amused smile.
“You have more thoughts on Tau?”
“I do, but none of them are in our scriptures, so they needn’t concern you.”
Herald laughs quietly, then allows silence to fall again. An oddly pregnant silence. They’re gazing at Raz from avian eyes, head slightly tilted and golden irises affixed to his face, like a curious raptor trying to calculate the path of a hare in the field below. Before Raziel can ask about it, they raise their voice again: “Do you think that is why you are infatuated with Hiram? Because he reminds you of Evelyn?”
“I...” Raziel blinks, stopped in his tracks. Oh dear. He swallows, then glances down into his cup. “I... I don't know. I hope not. That... wouldn't be fair, I think.”
“Seeing qualities of our loved ones in other people is not a bad thing. It only becomes troublesome when you begin mapping her image onto his every vertex. Be aware of her influence on your perception.”
Raz leans back in his chair, staring at the wall besides Herald’s face without really perceiving it.
“I don’t think their situations are exactly comparable”, he tries to reason. “Noble politicians and murderous pirates aren’t really the same... brand of ruthlessness. And she wouldn’t... she’d never...”
“Is this about the confession?”
“...maybe.”
Herald shifts their wings on their seat and glances off into the interior of the study. “You are conflicted about it?” It’s less of a question and more of an observation.
“Who wouldn’t be conflicted about it?! I mean, it’s not only the content of what Hiram said to the statues, it’s also...” Raz wets his lips, puts down his teacup and staples his fingers. “He said it to the statues. Not to us. But we still... we all heard. I think. Well, I heard at least. And I... I didn’t ask for this knowledge? And even if I did, I highly doubt he would have told me of all people. And it feels wrong to not let him know, to not tell him that we all know, but he obviously doesn’t want us to know so he won’t react well when he learns, and I... I don’t know what to think.”
“I think your heart has already chosen what to think, but your head tries to hold on to the morals it has learned.”
Raziel sighs and rubs his face. “I guess...”
“Do you think there is merit in telling him? Or would you do it merely to relieve yourself of having to carry the same secret burden?”
“...you know, sometimes I hate you and your insightful words.”
Herald throws him a sly grin: “I try.”
They turn back to Raz, face back to the androgynous human with an otherworldly edge Raz is familiar with: “Keep in mind, you do not know the full story. You have only born this burden for a couple hours, imagine how heavy it must lay upon his shoulders.”
Raz picks up his teacup again and sips in quiet contemplation.
After a few minutes of thoughtfulness, Herald glances out of the porthole. Following their gaze, Raziel sees that the light on the vaguely defined outside of the study has changed character, from a cool ocean blue to a gentle lavender, occasionally wafted by slivers of orange and red. The oil lantern inside the study has almost burnt out. Only a small blue flame desperately clings to the spout. “Day approaches”, Herald says.
“I suppose”, Raziel replies.
“So. You have left your cradle. What have you learned?”
“That there are still living metallic dragons in this world.”
Herald smiles warmly: “Truly wondrous. What else?”
“That I'm not as bad with a sword as I thought I was”
“And you'll keep improving. What else?”
“That I want this, I think. I want to know more. See more. These people... they’re the strangest folk I’ve ever met and this is only my very first adventure. I want to get to know them better. I want to show Bem the library and write letters to Sciwha. And I think I’m going to.”
“And they will be a grateful for your presence as you are for theirs. What else?”
What else? Raz sips his tea and thinks.
“That... there are people who want me without even knowing me. And that that circumstance is mutual, despite what I assume.”
“Does that comfort you?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't have to. Uncertainties lay strewn on the path of life. Think about it. Walk a few steps. Maybe it will lead you to a conclusion.” They raise from their seat and shake out their wings, gingerly stepping over to the stubborn oil lamp. Raziel rubs his forehead while he watches them pick it up: “I’m going to wake up with a headache again, aren’t I?”
Herald throws him a shrew smile: “You have the gifts to cure it, little sheep. And if you wish to speak to me, recall that I am merely a prayer away at all times.”
“Thank you, Herald.”
“Now, a new dawn rises. It’s time to hit the road.” With one last glance, they raise the flame to their lips and blow out the dream.