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At the first drop of rain, Sumeru City quieted. Squirrels hurried up trees while fireflies snuck in between their dense leaves. Birds and humans alike ducked underneath houses’ eaves, huddling together to keep dry. The streets, usually bustling with footsteps and chatter, now fell hushed and docile in the rain’s embrace. It was a welcome change, at least to the Wanderer.
Rain was aggravating when it came with thunder, but without that disturbance the Wanderer actually found it quite nice. He also didn’t share most other beings’ concern of getting wet; his big hat allowed him to be fully immersed in the rain, and enjoy the calm it brought both inherently, and by it having chased everything else away. He had had a long and socially-exhausting day of running errands for the Lesser Lord (why couldn’t people just accept correspondences with their names on them, instead of asking redundant questions like “This is for me? From the Dendro Archon? I’m not in trouble, am I!?” and a million others that he wouldn’t have known how to answer, even if he’d cared to?), so this moment of peace and quiet was extra appreciated. It wasn’t often that the streets were empty enough for the Wanderer to feel sufficiently undisturbed as he strolled along, so he made sure to savor each step, the rain cascading down around him like a protective barrier.
He made his way up to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, but felt no rush to get inside. Perhaps he would indulge in some alone time on one of the giant tree branches nearby instead… but, one look up made his brows furrow. There was someone in his usual spot. Nevermind that they were basically trespassing on the Lesser Lord’s residence, how did they even manage to get up there? One of the reasons the Wanderer chose that spot was how inaccessible it was to anybody that couldn’t fly (so everybody in the city except him, basically); he was guaranteed not to be bothered until he himself decided to come down. But now someone had invaded his hideout and was even making themselves comfortable there? He couldn’t have that. The Wanderer floated up to the branch, intent on scarring this person or at least telling them off badly enough that they would never even dream of coming back again.
The features of the person became clearer the closer he got. The Wanderer recognized that thick ponytail of hair, as well as the gold-accented scarf draped around toned shoulders. That envoy from the sands Sethos was here, gazing out at the horizon with nary a shred of awareness of his surroundings, evident from how the Wanderer could get as close as an arm’s length behind him without eliciting any reaction. If he was this careless, then he deserved the nasty surprise, the Wanderer thought while preparing to loudly clear his throat. But just before he could, Sethos brought a hand up to his cheek and wiped.
… Crying? How bothersome. He couldn’t have found his own hidden corner to do this? The Wanderer folded his arms and glared into the back of Sethos’s head. His hair looked damp, the gray ends curlier than usual due to the abundant moisture in the air. There were dark patches on his clothes that kept growing as more rain drip-dropped down from the foliage above. A rather pitiful sight. The Wanderer wasn’t sure how much fun he could get out of kicking a dog that was already down.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“AAAHH!” Sethos jumped and immediately started slipping off the branch—all within the Wanderer’s predictions. He stuck an arm out and the other grabbed onto it with gravity-defying strength, fingers digging into the Wanderer’s skin uncomfortably. His hands were damp and cold. The Wanderer hoisted him up only as far as Sethos needed to find a stable grip, then left him to climb the rest of the way up. Eventually Sethos made it onto the branch again, huffing loudly while he looked up at the Wanderer. “Hat Guy! Thank you….”
Was he aware that ‘Hat Guy’ himself was the one who’d scared him almost to literal death? People and their ridiculous pleasantries…. The Wanderer observed Sethos as he straightened his clothes out, caught his breath, and quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He was trying not to show it, but the Wanderer could tell he was floundering beneath his gaze. He held his ground well, though; a full sixty seconds passed without the Wanderer saying a word, and Sethos refusing to start the conversation himself. Counting was getting boring, though, and the Wanderer neither wanted to float here forever nor concede his special spot to the other man. So, with a sigh, he finally broke the silence. “What is it?”
“W-what?”
“You can tell me, if you want—or you can get out of here, because you’re trespassing. I won’t ask again.”
Sethos froze. He still had an appeasing smile on his lips, a gesture the Wanderer saw no point in acknowledging. Indeed, after only a few moments it began to fade away with the rest of Sethos’s mask, and then the young man wilted, shrinking into himself like a plant deprived of water.
“Sorry… I didn’t know this was private property.”
That didn’t change the fact that it was—but beside the Lesser Lord, the Wanderer also lived here, and just like her he had the right to host guests. Though he didn’t regard Sethos as anything more than a passing bird resting on their windowsill at the moment. “Well. You’re already here.” Get on with it, he believed Sethos could understand from his tone of voice.
“I was just looking for a quiet place, away from the crowd. The city can be really overwhelming sometimes, wouldn’t you agree?” Sethos was circling around the point. The Wanderer fixed him with an impatient look. “Okay, okay, okay. I was having a really bad day.”
He moved over and hugged one knee to his chest when the Wanderer sat down, though they weren’t close by any means. The rain whispered softly around them while Sethos spoke. “My grandfather passed away recently. He’d taken care of me all my life, and was really the only family I had. The past couple weeks have been… hard.”
The Wanderer was sure that was an understatement. Mourning a loved one and assuming leadership of the illustrious Temple of Silence at the same time wasn’t something just anyone could do. Yet as far as he was aware, Sethos had been running around with the same smile on his face since forever. Really living up to the name of his organization, wasn’t he?
“I’m taking over for him now—which means a lot of reintroductions, a lot of responsibilities, and even more people watching my every step. We’ve prepared for this, him and I both… but, I just don’t feel like I’m ready. Which sounds weird, I know—haven’t I been doing it?” Sethos laughed, a weak sound that was immediately swallowed up by the rumble of rain. “What I mean is… I just, wanted to be his grandson a little longer. I’m not ready to keep going all alone….”
His voice dwindled, then disappeared completely, and Sethos buried his face into his tightly-folded arms. The rain was coming down harder now, the forest releasing an earthy scent with each heavy droplet that broke on the soil. The Wanderer sat and gazed out into the sea of mist, the thoughts running through his mind as obscured as the scenery all around them. It was a while before the rain shower eased up, waning into a fine sprinkle that no longer posed a threat to young sprouts or delicate petals of flowers. Only then did Sethos also lift his head, as if emerging from a stormy trance, his eyes red and lashes still damp.
“Wow, it really poured—” he abruptly stopped and covered his head with his hands belatedly, but he was surprisingly dry. Looking up, he saw a translucent shield of Anemo covering them both. “Ah, Hat Guy… thank—”
With a wave of his fingers, the Wanderer sent a gust blowing through him, slipping into his clothes and hair to whisk the moisture away. Sethos instinctively shut his eyes, but his remaining senses were more than enough to perceive the wind’s caresses on his skin, the breeze combing through his hair. Whether the Wanderer knew or cared was a mystery; he blow-dried Sethos and ignored his smile of gratitude with the same aloof expression he’d held throughout their entire encounter.
“Thank you.” Sethos tried anyway. He obviously wasn’t stupid, so he was just stubborn, the Wanderer concluded with a mild sense of annoyance. “For drying me, and… for listening, and allowing me to use this space. I’ll make sure not to intrude again.”
“That won’t be necessary….” The Wanderer wasn’t sure what possessed him to speak up. “As long as you keep to the tree, and don’t disturb the Sanctuary, she probably won’t mind.”
“‘She’?”
“Lesser Lord Kusanali.”
“The Dendro Archon lives here!?” Sethos hissed with understandable shock. “You could’ve told me that sooner! And, anyway, how can you speak for her like that? Who are you?”
The Wanderer sucked in a breath. He was regretting this already. “It’s… my house too. Though if you don’t want to come back, then it’s just as well.”
He slipped off of the branch, but Sethos jumped after him, landing safely with a roll. Curses… so there was no need to save him earlier. No wonder he could climb a tree so high, as well. The Wanderer scowled when Sethos sprung up to block his path.
“Wait wait wait! I’d love to— I mean, I will, i-if that’s okay with you? It is… right? You’re inviting me back—”
“Do whatever you want,” the Wanderer snapped and pushed past Sethos to disappear into his house. That was answer enough—he knew that, and he knew the other man understood as well.
His sanctuary was no longer going to be his own, but on this rare occasion the Wanderer felt he wasn’t going to mind the new company all that much.