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“Things won’t stay the same.” Grian stared at the boy in front of him, both of them wavering in grip, their swords ponderous.
BigB’s eyes crinkled, the softness of the moment outweighing apprehension. “Maybe. You’d think so, right? That—“
“That nothing is permanent?”
“Nothing is permanent, yes. Life begets change. You. You transmute. Grian and Menores. Love, hate. Constant change… Impermanence ceaselessly thrives.” The swords disappear from their hands, and in their place are chains, heavy, rusted metal encircling their wrists. BigB stares at them, thinking.
Grian moves back. “Only change lasts, then.”
“Transformation grieving antiquity. Oh, how poetry lies.” The world moved around them, flipping through years like pages. The Wardwatch, the fire, the city. Grian refused to acknowledge the chaos around them.
He huffed. “You’re making no sense!”
BigB stared back at him, eyes watery, nostalgic. “Nothing’s sensible. Reason died after childhood.”
“What do you call the fire? Some hapless affair?” Glaring, Grian pulled at the chains. Like dust they dissolved, unearthing a familiar gold string underneath.
BigB turned away. The chains, the string connecting them… not something he wished to relive, even in his dreams. “The die was cast. We—“ He hesitated at the outraged sounds behind him. “The Wardwatch… could only Watch. Grian—“
“You and your Wardwatch!” He gripped BigB’s shoulder, forcing him to face him. “You never had a Blessing. By spite, you were Cursed.”
“By association? Surrender meant losing you. I chose to stay. We… we were kids.” His voice softened. “Only kids, together, afraid. Wardwatch didn’t matter. My friend mattered.”
Grian looked down, fingered the string tying them together. “Remember the bread?” He whispered.
BigB smiled. “And the sweets? Cookies, laughing together? Secret souls.”
“You would hide from your father.”
“Never wanted responsibility. Not from Wardwatch, no.”
Grian pulled on the string, slightly, pleading. “Then why return there?”
BigB’s eyes widened. Their surroundings froze, back to the desert they began in. “That I didn’t choose. The Listeners… You forgot to stay. You can’t know. I—“
Pain flared on his wrist, and BigB looked down to see the string around it burning. He cried out, trying to put it out, keep this bit of yarn alive, don’t let it die—“
“You’re right, I don’t know.” Even as the flame scorched him, Grian stood detached, speaking. “I don’t even remember. BigB is a ghost.”
“No, Grian, please don’t—“ BigB gasped, the string was blackening— “Secret soulmates, remember? Tied by string, forever— No!”
The yarn changed to ash, and with it, the desert around them. Walls shaking, sand scattering, and all the while Grian stared at BigB.
“Transformation, then,
Grieves antiquity,
For something since passed.”
—- - - -
BigB gasped awake with something akin to a sob. His heart hammered in his chest, blinking in the rising sunrays. It was only a dream. Just a dream.
BigB repeated the sentiments as he stood, greeting Ren and Etho from their neighboring bedrooms. He knew it was a dream. He shouldn’t listen to whatever dream-Grian said. It was only a dream.
Even as his words followed BigB out the door.