for Essek (dunamagic)

[ausgebrannt]

[Caleb Widogast had given up on the idea of a soulmate. He hadn't wanted to, but his life had taken turns that something so precious as love with the person his soul was fated to complete, he couldn't possibly deserve it. And whatever poor soul had been matched to his, they didn't deserve the mess that he was. Wherever they were, he hoped that somehow they'd found another, even if he knew that wasn't how these things worked. But he did know the silence and that locked away space was empty. So empty.

It hadn't always been.

When he had been young, when he had been Bren, his soulmate had always been there, a familiar shadow he could meet in his mind, in dreams that weren't really dreams, visions that came when he was waking. There was comfort in his soulmate's presence, even if he was only a soft violet shape. He remembers that voice, soft and lilting. A constant presence in his life. They shared each other's distress, and times like that slipping into that shared space to offer what comfort he could, to take what comfort his shadowy soulmate offers, it's the safest he'd ever felt.

Then his entire life had shattered. He'd been drawn into the web of the vicious, plotting spider that was Trent Ikithon and fell apart in his final test of devotion. His psyche and his sanity had shattered. A decade passed before he surfaced once more, fleeing out into the night in desperation.

It's not long before he feels the ache of the lack of his soulmate, and he rties to find that mental space. It's hard, and he can't find his way in easily, and when he finally manages it, it's empty. Worse than empty. It's cold and vacant, like no one has set foot there for years. Ages. But why would they? He's been broken, gone. Hells, he's still broken.

So he concentrates on surviving, not sure if his soulmate is even still alive, and eventually is so swept up in the trouble that the Mighty Nein has stumbled across that he doesn't have much time to think about that ache. The friends he's made help, finding people who genuinely care for him, who he genuinely cares about. He starts living rather than simply surviving, broken though he may be. He starts to think he can make a difference perhaps, and is so caught up in everything that is going on that it nearly knocks him off his feet when all at once, that long-forgotten link lights up with the sudden burst of utter distress.

The fact that it happens as he's standing in the middle of the Bright Queen's palace, holding the Luxon Beacon aloft and offering it back to the Dynasty that it was stolen from. For a moment he forgets to breathe, reaches desperately for that mind space and is denied it once more. No. If the link is still there, then that means. Oh gods that means.

Caleb only hopes that the people around him think the near stupefied expression on his face has to do with the weight of what is going on around them, as the Mighty Nein are released from being held and are welcomed as heroes rather than prisoners.]

Comments

[dunamagic]

[Essek knew what an empty shared space was like - it wasn't entirely uncommon for an elf to have a soulmate who was yet to be born, to live decades with that hollow ache. As a new soul he was not gifted the comfort of knowing and waiting for the other half of his soul. No, it was just.. empty. A void that pressed against him until he learned to shut it away, leave it in an unused corner of his mind. He let the cold seep into him, for ambition to push him, for his goals to outweigh any morals-

And then a few years short of his ninth decade, he felt it - the first spark of distress, unbridled and confused.

Like a flame, it flared to brilliant life and left him breathless. It was unpleasant - he's long since convinced himself he didn't ever want to feel another's distress pushed upon him, to have such a connection - yet, he feels unimaginable relief. As if the world was cold and he's feeling warmth for the first time.

So he opens the door he's long barred shut and brings life to their shared space. It's small things: making it more welcoming, lived in, bringing the warmth of a comfort he never had. To not leave his soulmate as cold and devastatingly alone as he was. The compassion surprised him -- he was far from moral or ethical, his ambitions driving him forward relentlessly -- but there was some soft, neglected part of him that he pushed down, hid, that came to life when his soulmate did. Like a fragile moth coaxed out by a flame.

An apt description for the burnt orange shadow that flickered in their shared space. Getting to listen to that accented voice become deeper with age, how his flame's distress became more frequent along with it. Essek would not hesitate to stop his research when he felt his flame's distress, to be there to give comfort.

And then there was distress so intense it took him to his knees, his vision whited out, ears buzzing. It overwhelmed him to the point that Essek could not slip into the their space - could only clutch his chest as the air was stolen from his lungs. It felt like hours, days, before it just--

Stopped.

And it was over. His flame was snuffed out, gone. It took two years for him to realize his soulmate wasn't coming back, the space empty and cold -- colder than it had been before. At times, he would feel a short flare of panic that wasn't his, but the room was still vacant - phantom distress the clerics called it. It took another five for him to finally bar shut that part of his mind and focus instead on his goals -- there was nothing to lose, whatever his soulmate had nurtured in him was a only a hinderance in his absence.

Every flare of distress went ignored, even as they became more frequent -- he would not give into a ghost. Essek pushed and pushed, until he was lofty in his ambition. Until.. it was threatened.

So used to ignoring the phantom distress, he wasn't nearly used enough to his own. It took effort to school his expression in the face of a beacon held aloft by some unknown man - it almost became overwhelming when he felt a flare of that phantom distress alongside his own. Why did it almost feel as if someone was banging on the door of a place he rather not remember--

The polite smile is difficult when he's tasked to see this group to the Dungeon of Penance, but he will not let himself slip. Essek only has his ambitions now, he cannot lose them too.]

Come, follow me.

[ausgebrannt]

[Caleb is too overwhelmed to even consider that his soulmate could be physically close. Later he may consider the timing, the fact that this feeling of such distress and anxiety spiked at the same moment that he held the Beacon aloft. Right now he has handed over the artifact and allowed himself to be escorted out with the rest of the Nein, following this drow -- this Shadowhand -- who has taken it upon himself to guide them to retrieve Veth's husband.

That's where he is physically at least. Mentally he is straining and hammering at the door that refuses to open for him. Let him in. Let him reach out and find his shadow. If they're still connected, if he's still there, Caleb's heart aches so sharply he fears it will cease beating entirely.

It's no use. The shared space will not open to him, and he finds himself fighting back the urge to collapse to his knees and sob. So long, it's been so long. Could the other half of his soul still be out there? Still be his?

It hurts. Gods it hurts so much not to be able to reach him.

Eventually he shakes this off enough to join the conversation, right around the time he hears their guide say something about time being his specialty. Caleb's ears perk.]

Is that so? And what manner of magic is that?

[dunamagic]

[The conversation is hard to keep his mind on, but Essek finds himself nearly desperate to - needing to ignore the redoubling despair that's building in his chest. His own grows deeper as he the forgotten corner of his mind rattles and groans as if begging him to return to it, the phantom despair of is soulmate building deeper -- it gnaws at him, makes his heart ache with a longing grief he's not allowed himself to feel for a number of years.

He pinches his hand under his robes to keep himself focused, answering the many questions these people have within the scope of what outsiders can know, as he leads them towards the dungeons. It is not often that someone gets to leave once brought there. The half-orc and Tiefling are the most talkative, but the human who held the beacon aloft is eerily quiet.

Of course the red haired human has his attention, this was the man who singlehandedly risked all his ambition with one move. The one who seemingly triggered the resurfacing of the trauma of losing his soulmate by threatening the only other thing Essek had left.

The secrets of Dunamancy and the beacons would be his. Without them, how could he save his flame?

Another question is thrown his way that he answers with ease. Yet it was this one that caught the attention of the human man for the first time. Curious. More curious was how the man's voice almost-- no.]

Dunamancy. [He gives the man his ever polite smile, the word coming out pointed.] You saw it when.. ah, "peeking" into the beacon, did you not? Saw the infinite potential before you.

[ausgebrannt]

[There's a faint flicker of recognition at the word in Caleb's eyes. He's heard whisper of the practice, a new school of magic that wove its way through time and reality itself, one that the Dynasty had discovered and begun to perfect and one that was a mystery still to the Empire. None of that mattered to Caleb so much as the always present desire to learn more.

And magic that would let him manipulate time and space? That is exactly what he has been searching for, to try to undo some of the worst sins of his past. He tries not to look quite so eager as he feels.

He risks a moment of eye contact with the Shadowhand, wondering at the way meeting those eyes feels like it stills the breath held in his lungs so that he can neither inhale nor exhale for a moment before it all rushed from him, his voice breathless when he finally found it.]

I did, yes. I could see the fracturing web of possibility, could take some fragment of that with me when I put it away. It was incredible, like nothing I have seen before despite all my arcane study.

[dunamagic]

[Those blue eyes burn as bright as the man's hair, it steals his breath in a way he wasn't prepared for -- a way he's not experienced since the first flare of distress more than three decades ago. Essek steals himself against the feeling, against so much -- he's tired of reliving a grief he's convinced himself he's over.

He's not, nor will he ever be.

But it is curious that this hero -- Caleb Widogast wasn't it? -- is interested in such an obscure and dangerous magic. From how he spoke it seemed this Widogast was of arcane practice, perhaps a fellow mage, had learned to pluck motes from the beacon.. Perhaps Essek could use this interest to his advantage, he needed to keep a close eye on these heroes afterall.

Not because he feels a strange draw to this man.]

Ah, you were able to harness a mote of possibility -- a condensed fragment of dunamis, one that allows you to realign reality for but a split moment. A second chance if you will. [He watches Widogast for his interest, wondering how deeply this man looked into the beacon.] Not something you would oft experience outside of the Dynasty.

[ausgebrannt]

Is that the term for it? It's apt. It's proven to be a very powerful tool, a small nudge of fate -- if you'd like to call it fate.

[Oh he'd gazed deeply, deeper each time, quite ready to tumble down straight into it, though they'd had to be cautious for fear of being tracked, keeping the Beacon mostly hidden in the non-space of the bag of holding.

He hums a thoughtful sound at Essek's other observation. That is the heart of the problems they're all dealing with right now, isn't it? The cause for the war, the Empire's greed for magic that it did not understand, did not possess. The Dynasty's rage at having such an important set of artifacts stolen away.]

No it is not, and I know there are men in power who would give near anything for the chance of that experience.

[dunamagic]

Indeed, it would be a.. nudge of fate as you say.

[Yes, he would call it fate, it was hard not to believe in that concept when dealing with dunamantic magics. There just was not one fate, but many branching paths -- and those that were not chosen.. well they either decayed or perhaps were sought in another reality.

Plus, with the undeniable existence of soulmates, well..

The mention of men in power brings a small wry smirk to his lips, because he knows many like that. Worked with them, even is one of them. Now he wondered how this man was also familiar with them. If he was one that merely did not have the means of power and influence. They existed everywhere, just those with the means are the most dangerous.]

Many do -- which is very much a piece of why our beacons were stolen. There are many terrible people who covet what we safeguard.

[ausgebrannt]

Ja. There are.

[And too many of them sit on the Cerberus Assembly, running the Empire and pulling strings that put innocent people in danger. Or worse. The war was causing carnage and lost on both sides. No one would really come out a winner in this, and Caleb knew that.

For the moment he put those thoughts aside.]

Admittedly, I'm also very curious about it myself. The study of magic is... well, it is what drives me through the world.

[For his own reasons of course. He's watching Essek still, his step shifting to bring him closer to the Shadowhand as they walked. The idea of new magic certainly has him acting brighter than he had earlier, though that pain and desperation to find a way to reach his soulmate, to calm that horrible surge of distress still lingers.

Somehow being close to this Essek Thelyss makes it feel better.]

[dunamagic]

[And Essek experiences the same when Caleb steps closer, the way this man eases the distress in his chest. It still writhes and clenches, his own only being heightened by the faux distress -- how it almost feels like the phantom emotions feed and grow off his.

At least this man proves a good distraction, has his attention despite everything that's happening under his mask.

His purple eyes take in the man next to him - careful not to see too interested, there were others here. The fiery hair, deeply intelligent blue eyes, scruffy and unkempt, yet the bulk at his sides and the familiar beside him...]

Ah, a practitioner of the arcane arts. [His smile is knowing, recognizing a fellow wizard.] Not many have that level of drive -- fewer still for such esoteric magics. Though, that curiosity may not be sated.

[ausgebrannt]

It may not be, this is true. But that has not stopped me from seeking it, nevertheless.

[And nothing will. Caleb is a driven man, a purpose that is held ever close to his heart, scrawled in the second book holstered at his chest, the heartfelt missives to the people he lost at his own hands, the ones that he fully intends to see again once day. He will find that knowledge, that magic, or the search for it will kill him.

Though the idea of death now feels uncomfortable, covered in barbs and thorns as he considers that wave of despair earlier. His soulmate, his other half, is still alive. He can't so easily leave him. Not again.

Still he offers a faintly wry smile.]

Though they do say curiosity kills cats. [And Caleb has a tendency to get along with cats better than people.]

[dunamagic]

[At the mention of cats, Essek's eyes flick curiously at the man's familiar. An apt choice then if the man is to compare himself to a cat -- familiars always felt too telling, many mages pick them on a whim and such things can tell a lot about someone, more than they often think. And to say the man before him - as dressed in rags and rather unkempt as he is - looks like a stray wouldn't be a lie.

When he meets Caleb's eyes again, he smiles - enigmatic though it curls wryly at the corners.]

Ah, an Empire saying, yes? Here, we have another. [His words lilt into a fluid and lyrically dark undercommon, before he translates.] A moorbounder's hunger will see it crushed beneath a mastodon's feet.

[Why was he so drawn to this man, his starlit eyes drowning in oceans. That he would almost give this man a warning before his offer, but the words slipped out naturally, like drops of blood from a bleeding heart.

Maybe he was just soft because of the despair that sat heavy on his chest.]

But, should you.. prove yourselves worthy of the Dynasty's favor, [he looks at everyone,] perhaps then avenues of your.. curiosity might become available.

[ausgebrannt]

[Caleb Widogast is a man with a brand, and that brand is cats. And fire. Maybe more than a brand, Caleb Widogast is a man with issues, and those issues have imprinted themselves into every facet of his life. Yes, that sounds right. He is very much a stray cat, who has only gotten so far as he has having been taken in by a kind, if somewhat ragtag, family.

The Zemnian wizard offers a faint smile in return, but there's a genuine earnestness to it.]

Ja, I think that is a similar sentiment.

[And one that Caleb knew. His ambition had caused so much pain and suffering, had led to nothing but mistakes and regret. He'd like to think he's learned some lessons form that, but that does remain to be seen.]

One can hope. And I do hope that we can prove our willingness to be useful to the Dynasty.

[dunamagic]

[The saying was one he did not take to heart, though there was truth behind it. Thus, why he was careful, slow - he took his time and figured out the risks so that they did not get out of hand. He worked alone.

If not for needing to get close and control these people, he might not ever tempt Caleb so, but if he was interested in the mysteries of Dynasty magic, then Essek was not above dangling the bait for him. A hungry moorbounder indeed. Though he felt some eyes on him from the rest of the group. Caution, he would have to be cautious.]

I am sure you will. Come, let us finish your business and get you settled.

[He waved a hand and showed them to the cell they desired, listening to everything carefully. Watching everything with keen eyes -- though it was hard to concentrate on the Goblin and her soulmate reunite when he still felt the lingering aches. He itched to reach out to the door, touch it, but he knew better than to hope.

No, even after he saw them to their Inn after freeing the halfling, Essek didn't go into the dusty corner of his mind where his soul longed. He would not bleed again for false hope.]

[ausgebrannt]

[Caleb meanwhile, after the exhaustion of the day, found himself lying in a bed in an inn staring at an unfamiliar ceiling and thinking about that surge of despair earlier in the day.

He shut his eyes and reached out to try to find his way into that shared space, but still it refused to open to him.

This time it was his despair that would ring out through a connection far too long silent. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please come back. Please.

Eventually sleep claimed him, emotional exhaustion catching up with physical and pulling him under.]

[dunamagic]

[Despair once again that was not his. It made trancing impossible -- every meditative thought brought him back to the door, made him want to open it, whispered of false hope and of someone he could not have.

Days passed and the ache in his chest did not ever fully fade, the emotional wound reopened in many ways. He kept tabs on these Mighty Nein, though it was odd to realize that the one he was most interested in was shielded from his scrying. Curious. Even when he took a look at him when giving them their new home in Rosohna, he could not see the amulet - hidden then?

Soon, he found himself outside their.. modified home, looking at what could only be described as uniquely unKryn floral choices. Even it could not stop his normally enigmatic smile from shifting towards something more.. genuine, if even for a moment.

His eyes turn to the returning portion of the Mighty Nein and with them was Essek's primary interest - a man that somehow haunted his mind yet was unavailable to his scrying eye. And looking rather dashing at that -- so why did that make his heart squeeze?

Exchanging some greetings, his eyes fall to Caleb.] I see you have embraced Xhorhasian fashion. It suits you.

[ausgebrannt]

[After that first night, Caleb had continued to try to reach that space, but everything about it still seemed locked away to him. Something else that Trent Ikithon had stolen away from him, and it fed that cold and aching realization that he was a broken thing, irredeemable in so many ways.

But life goes on, and so does Caleb.

The Zemnian wizard can not -- and will not -- pretend he isn't intrigued by Essek Thelyss. The Dunamancy wizard is obviously brilliant, the light of that intellect shining from behind amethyst eyes that may as well have been actual jewels for their beauty.

So when the Shadowhand arrives at their entirely unique new home, well, Caleb looks pleased and more than a little curious. He finds himself fighting the start of a blush at the compliment, glancing down at the new clothes.]

Ja. It was time for a change, I think. In several ways.

[That said.] What has us lucky enough to have you visiting?

[dunamagic]

[Essek cannot help the small curl to his enigmatic smile at seeing Caleb's reaction. Any thoughts he told himself he had about needing to use this man to get at the group, to arrest a hold on them and their endeavors almost slip from his mind. How beautiful was it to see fire bright hair framing eyes that held the very Lucidian Ocean in them?

But he had a mission and it was not to find himself fascinated by a mere stray cat of a man -- even if he cleaned up very nicely.]

Merely coming to see how you all are.. ah, settling in, but it seems very well. [He makes a small gesture with his eyes towards the tree.

Another pipes in, asking if he lives close by.]

Ah no. My Den is within the Lucid Bastion, where I often am in research of my dunamantic pursuits or within the conservatory..

[He looks to Caleb again, not as interested in the others.]

Something that.. piqued your interests, did it not?

[ausgebrannt]

[It makes sense that the Shadowhand lives closer to the Palace and the center of the city, close on hand should the Bright Queen need him or his talents, and Caleb was certain this man in front of him was indeed a man of many talents.

For all the abject misery he has felt since that flare of despair and his inability to reach his soulmate -- still alive, still connected, but lost, lost to him and oh it hurt -- some of it eases in the presence of the other wizard, but Caleb has not thought on it too closely as yet, too caught up in watching Essek in clear curiosity and fascination.

He perks up at the mention of dunamancy once more.]

Very much, yes. I would like to learn what I could of it, should you be willing to teach.

[dunamagic]

[Good, it seems this Caleb Widogast was going to take his bait. Of course he would not offer it so easily, he needs to gauge the strength and capabilities of the group's mage. It wasn't because he was curious to see this man's magic, a peek at someone's soul.

Not that it mattered.]

You all have proven yourselves of use to the Dynasty, done her favors that will aid the war effort. [A scrutinizing look, before he tilts his head, eyebrows raised.]

But not yet have you shown me your worth for my tutelage.

[A poinient pause, a challenge in his eyes.] Show me. Show me something at the height of your capabilities.

[He's quick to dismiss any protests from the rest of the group, because if Caleb wishes to learn the esoteric and dangerous art of Dunamancy, he better already know enough about self control and his limits.]

[ausgebrannt]

[A small nod. Good. Beyond his own selfish desire to learn from the Shadowhand, currying favor with the Bright Queen is important. They need it to accomplish their own goals, and his own perhaps overly ambitious ideas of bringing an end to this war.

But when Essek presses him for his worth, for a demonstration of his own magic, Caleb doesn't hesitate. There's a moment where he runs through his spells, for one he can use to impress this man in a way that won't maim someone or otherwise damage the house. Walls of fire are out.

He shakes his head at the others' protests as well. It's only natural he should prove himself.]

A demonstration then.

[So he goes with Cat's Ire, the spectral cat's paw taking shape, interposing itself in the air between Essek and himself, wiggling its toes at the other wizard in a wave of greeting.]

[dunamagic]

[Interesting.. it seems a modified Bigby's Hand, though even to the material component that he saw Caleb use was different. Perhaps inspired by the spell, but in its own right unique to the caster. Even a masterful command of using it for non-hostile meassures when the man uses it to cutely wave.

Essek takes a moment to really observe it, finger to his lips in thought, eyes sharp on the other man.

Normally, this wouldn't be enough -- the man barely argued for this and while his spell was fascinating, Essek was practically offering to teach this man for little in return. Favors though, he could call on favors and those could be worth a mastodon's weight in diamonds.

And.. well, he couldn't help but feel almost charmed. Caleb Widogast was interesting and it was for more than his skills, intelligence, and dumb luck, but Essek couldn't figure out why.]

May I come in? [A pause.] If you are free now that is.

[ausgebrannt]

[So much of Caleb's magic is not exactly safe for enclosed spaces, really. And he has no idea if that will be enough to catch this man's attention. The Shadowhand of the Bright Queen is, after all, something of a mystery to him, one that has caught his fascination so entirely it's almost frightening.

He doesn't quite hold his breath, but it feels that way, and the moment before Essek answers drags on as Caleb waits. The moment passes, the answer is given and his heart kicks into beating at a quicker pace.]

Yes, of course. I am very free. Come in, please.

[As if Caleb is even capable of saying no, of turning him away.

Once inside, he'll manage to fend off the others with promises of showing them anything he learns later and leads the Drow to the study -- and part alchemy lab -- that lies just outside his chosen bedroom. The study should do for privacy enough.]

[dunamagic]

[Essek allows Caleb to handle his friends, merely following the man through the house as he observes some of the changes made to it. The study seems to be set up as a something if a makeshift alchemy lab and library. Eyeing the mostly empty shelves, he makes a casual comment about the sparseness of the them, though he doesn't linger there.]

This will do. [With a flick of his fingers, the door shuts behind them to keep the others away and to give them both the privacy of exchanging spells unhindered or interrupted.]

I can teach you a.. couple rudimentary spells, enough to whet your appetite.. give you a taste of what is possible should you wish to further pursue Dunamancy.

[Turning over his hand, his spellbook apparats into it as if made of the same stardust as his eyes - which are sharp and assessing on Caleb, curious.]

Tell me, are you interested in the manipulation of gravity, density or the sapping and scattering of one's potential.. or, perhaps, the bending of fate and destiny to your will? [This answer will be telling of many things.]

[ausgebrannt]

[Caleb gives a quick nod, glancing back once at the door as if wondering if his friends would be nosy enough to listen in. They might be. Veth and Jester, if he had to guess. But hopefully they are occupied elsewhere.

He doesn't have time to think about that, turning back to Essek as the Drow speaks. He straightens up now, eyes fixed on that newly appeared spellbook. He draws his own free from the book holster at his side, quite ready for whatever it is that the Shadowhand is willing to impart to him.

There's a spark in the Zemnian wizard's eyes.]

Yes.

[He answers with a flicker of a smile. All of those things.]

But perhaps most of all, the influence over fate itself.

[Of time and reality, really, of desperately trying to undo his past sins.]

[dunamagic]

[The soft enigmatic smile grows a little sharp at Caleb's response, at the way the human was so very interested in the bending of fate. That was a curious thing, why not go into divination if one wishes to have a hand on fate. To control it through dunamancy is to bend time and reality to your will, to make what happens something of your control, not just manipulation.

It was an aspect of Dunamancy that Essek was very interested in himself. Part of him hoping if he can learn to truly bend time to his will then he might.. regrasp the soulmate he lost so long ago.]

Hn, interesting.

[He opens his book and flicks through a few of the early pages, though he doesn't look at them, eyes more on Caleb.]

I assume you have the prepared materials for.. ah, two spells? That should give you a grasp of the basics.

[A taste that should bring the man back for more.]

[ausgebrannt]

I do, ja.

[He's prepared for that much without question, and if more were on offer, he would beg one of his friends to go procure more. But two is a very good start, and he will be grateful for that. He gestures to a table where they can sit side by side.

Caleb slips into one seat, setting his book open and fishing out the ink and quill that he'll need for this. He is every bit the attentive and eager pupil right now, watching Essek like the other man holds the key to secrets untold. And he does, doesn't he?]

Whenever you are ready, Shadowhand Thelyss.

[dunamagic]

Good.

[Keeping his book open to the first spell he has in him, Essek places his hand on the back of Caleb's chair as he sets down the book with the other. Not touching but he will later wonder why he allowed himself to get that close at all -- he was practically touch adverse, he would never nearly touch the man without a compelling reason.]

This one is not unlike what you experienced with the Beacon-- aptly called Fortune's Favor, you harness a mote of possibility, allowing you to attempt to bend fate towards your favor.

[His hand lingers on the page, as he leans in - again, unlike himself - fingers tracing a glyph as he speaks, showing the notations about the pearl component.

Later he would wonder if his uncharacteristic closeness was their souls desperately drawing together.]

[ausgebrannt]

[Caleb doesn't mind the proximity, which should be strange too, really. He's a skittish thing at the best of times -- though that has gotten better, marginally, as he's traveled with the Nein -- but something about Essek being close feels natural. Later he may think back on this and see the signs he's missed, that he should have seen coming.

But for now, he nods along with what Essek has to say.]

I see... [How very like the Beacon, yes. He leans over to glance at the page, to watch those precise, elegant fingers move along the page.

It's then that he makes his mistake. Or maybe fate itself intervenes. He reaches over to point at a spot in what Essek has written to inquire about it, and it's the slightest brush of their fingers, barely a touch at all.

But still a touch.

Caleb's breath catches, eyes going wide and the world falls away.]

[dunamagic]

[It was as if all the air left his lungs, as if punched from him as gravity fails him and he falls.

He falls and falls, long after his body has crumpled to the ground, as if the world is gone from under his feet and he plunges until he hits water. And the time slows, the weight of his body fully gone from him, his mind hazy as he feels the way his soul slowly crashes through forgotten locked and barred doors.

Then he's blinking up at a disused and cracked ceiling, cobwebs and dust hang on the proverbial air -- there is no air here, no real walls or ceiling, but he could never forget the way the stars they once imagined up there, the constellations they invented together when his flame was in pain.

Why was he here? He can feel the panic rising in him - the lighting in the room pulsed with his unease. His mind races to try and remember what happened - he had been showing Widogast a spell, they were too close, had brushed fingers--

Sitting up, he sees Caleb only an arm's length away from him, the man stirring. His mind couldn't comprehend what he was seeing or feeling, too drowned in disbelief.]

How..

[ausgebrannt]

[Caleb opens his eyes to a world that he thought he'd never see again, a secret place behind a door that had remained locked to him despite his desperate pleading at it to open. He looks up at the dusty ceiling, the faded stars in the sky. His voice catches in his throat, a sob of sound that he can't hold back. Relief, memory, pain. All of it is too much to contain and it rises in his eyes in the form of tears that are threatening to brim over.

For a long moment he doesn't move, simply staring up at the disused sky, trying and failing to contain his tears and failing. But he's here. He made it here, past that broken door. And he isn't alone.

He sits up then all at once, and his gaze swings immediately, expecting to see his shadow, and finding himself looking into those impossibly deep amethyst eyes of Essek Thelyss.]

It's you. [Breathless but certain, realization that sweeps through him like a tsunami off the ocean, dragging him under and turning him about until gravity means nothing.] You're here.

[dunamagic]

[At first, Essek feels like he's having some kind of flashback nightmare, that his mind is so lonely he's superimposing the first person he's had any interested in other than his soulmate. As if his mind refuses to believe in something like this happening to him, that everything he's suffered cannot have been for nothing. Because then why--

But Caleb is crying - those deep oceans spilling over - and he feels it as if he's feeling his own. His hand coming up to brush his own cheek as he hears Caleb's words, the certainty behind them..

Essek's hand comes away wet, his own tears falling either because of or in tandem with Caleb's. His hand tremors as he stares at Caleb before hiding his eyes behind tightly closes lids, shaking his head.]

How.. how are you here? My soulmate.. my flame is dead-- [His voice catches and his breathing picks up as tears will not dam behind his lids. It's agony, he's in agony and the light of the room pulses with his distress. What should have been a happy reunion is only met with his fear of this being fake, a lie..

Of being abandoned again.]

[ausgebrannt]

[The pain in Essek reverberates through Caleb, an echo that grows louder rather than quieter, building and building until it threatens to steal the last shred of air from Caleb's lungs. Seeing this other man -- his soulmate, still here, still alive -- suffering so shakes him.

He reaches out, hesitating but pushing through, fingers touching gently along his shoulder, soft and careful, like one might touch the wind of a butterfly, something fragile and precious that he isn't certain he has any right to really touch.

The words land like arrows.]

Not dead... just lost. For a very long time. [A pang of his own panic at the memory of that lost time.] I am so sorry, when I finally found myself again, I have been trying to find my way back, but the door was barred. I couldn't reach you. I thought you were gone.

[And he'd thought that was what he deserved.]

[dunamagic]

[Lost, not gone. Just lost. There were no phantom pains, they were real pains his soul mate was actually suffering but for whatever reason wasn't able to come to their space, this space that is cold and unwelcoming in its disuse. The touch grounds him as he tires to fight through this moment in time, to be present with his soulmate, yet it all feels like a nightmare, like a fever that is fogging his mind and making him feel crazy.

Still, his eyes open again to look at his flame, to look upon this handsome man and he wants to ask why but he felt the pang of panic that wasn't his, even in his own panic he can feel his soul mates. It seems that to ask "why" right now would only further ruin this moment even if he wants to know -- wants to demand to know.]

You never came here.. I was told by clerics that the distress I was feeling were Phantom pains, that you were dead, that-- [That he was clinging to a ghost and hurting himself.]

I.. [He reaches out a careful hand to touch the side of Caleb's face, so gentle and hesitant, like he was an illusion that would shatter, like he expected Caleb to vanish.]

[ausgebrannt]

[The other man's distress is not lost on Caleb. How could it be? His soulmate, his beautiful, beloved shadow made flesh right in front of him. Alive and well and so, so much more than he deserved. The words strike like knives. 'You never came here.' Oh it ached, made his throat close tight as tears threatened his eyes.

It was the touch of those hand that set them to falling from his eyes. Even if he knew he couldn't possibly deserve it, that he had no right to the comfort of it, he turned towards that touch, leaned into it.]

I am so sorry. I cannot ask you to forgive me, but I... [There is no stopping the tears now as they track their way down his cheeks.] ...I am happy to know your face.

[dunamagic]

[Essek's thumb brushes at one of the tears, his own tears dripping like starlight down his cheeks. Caleb was beautiful, his tears like rivers from beautiful oceans, yet Essek wanted nothing more than to stop those tears, so see a smile on that face like he deserves.]

There... there is nothing to forgive-- from the sounds of it, you did not intentionally abandon me, yes? [Again, his thumb wipes ever so carefully over the man's cheek, chasing tears.]

Else you would not be so shocked that I barred our room for my own.. sanity.

[No, if anyone abandoned the other, it was him who abandoned Caleb, he was the one at fault, he should have had more faith.] I believe it is I who should ask for forgiveness.