Seodai awoke slowly. It was the chill, at first. Winter's breath stealing away his peaceful repose. Then it was Syllke, moving to pull the blanket back over them once more. Warmth quickly followed, the boy in his arms becoming incredibly still once again. Had he stirred in his sleep? Seodai didn't speak, assuming as much. He simply lay with his arm looped possessively around a narrow waist, feeling the steady rise and fall of Syllke's breathing once the Vantha let out his breath in a sigh.
It was quiet in the Lyceum, as quiet as his dreamless sleep had been. Seodai felt peaceful, and he wished for a moment that he never had to leave. Life made sense, here, with Syllke caring for them in something as simple as tugging the blanket up again. Syllke always took care of him. Seodai realized now, in the quiet, that it was the very reason he had come here instead of going home. It was the same reason he had found himself drifting away from the farm on days that Syllke didn't come to him. For a long while it had been all Syllke, pulling at Seodai's attention and time. All Syllke in conversation and smiles, in ideas and adventures. But, for a length of time he couldn't measure, a time he couldn't recall the beginning of, Seodai had found something in himself pulling too.
Like that day he had come to the Lyceum and first laid eyes upon the sculpture of himself. He'd been jealous, that day, because Syllke's beautiful smile and his hypnotic voice had been shared with a room full of children - that those colorful, adoring eyes hadn't been fixed upon him. And later, when he'd wrapped his arms around those smooth shoulders and crushed Syllke to him, he'd been filled with a satisfaction that had been difficult to name. It had come in a million smiles, countless hours of conversation, and the slow and gradual way in which Syllke had come to understand Seodai better than anyone else. Seodai had just been too blind to see it, too distracted, too busy. It took the haze of someone else's life, a whole different existence, to make any of it seem clear.
Seodai had been infatuated with Lysander. His unearthly beauty made the initial attraction unfair, but it was the very fact that Seodai couldn't have him that prolonged it all. Just like Kova. Just like the love he had died for so long before. That wasn't real. It was a shadow of something else, an echo through time.
Seodai did not know what the future held. He did not know what the gods had planned, or if the darkness that had fallen over Denval could be turned back. He did not know if Syllke, who loved everyone so freely and so vibrantly, cared as deeply for him as he did the Vantha. One thing was certain, though, in the peace of the morning. He wasn't afraid anymore. Weary, perhaps, but no longer terrified.
"Syllke," Seodai murmured, fingers lightly stroking up the flat stomach his hand had curled so comfortably against. Up to the line of his jaw, as Seodai pushed himself up to one elbow. "Are you asleep?"
The Denvali farmer tugged on a smooth, pale shoulder and coaxed Syllke onto his back. His hair was mussed from their shared sleep, his eyes soft and relaxed. Seodai smiled, a sleepy, gentle expression.
"I hope you'll forgive my intrusion," he said, one hand lifting so that the pad of his thumb could trail across Syllke's full lower lip. "And my idiocy. I've had a terrible couple of days, and I needed you. You keep me together. Y'know that?"
Seodai dipped his golden head, and kissed the corner of Syllke's mouth. Then he dropped his position again so that he could nestle his head into the shoulder of his dear friend.
"Do you remember what the gods said, about remembering, Syllke? I've remembered, and I think I needed his perspective to see what a mess I've made of things."
With a nestle that dislodged the blankets, Seodai reached to tuck it up over his shoulder again, unwilling to let the bite of the air distract him. He felt as close to level-headed as he had been in a long time. He didn't have it all figured out. Maybe he had nothing figured out. But, despite the sleepy pull of his heavy lids, and the way his long limbs tucked just so into Syllke, making sleep so appealing, he felt balanced. Even-keel. Something he couldn't even describe.
"I kissed Lysander, Syllke. Because he was there, and I was freezing, and I didn't want to be afraid anymore. Afraid that I'd finally know I couldn't really have him at all."
For all that Seodai had expressed to Syllke in the months prior, it might have been surprising, the calm with which he expressed this. This embrace he'd longed for with as much passion as Syllke had secretly longed for him. Seodai spoke about it almost clinically, though, watching his own fingertips as he traced an idle pattern across his Vantha's chest.
"But when I kissed him, he wasn't even there anymore. It was all... who I used to be. It doesn't make sense, not really. But I know... who he was. Who he loved. And I think that is why Lysander was important. He was like her. Delicate, pretty. Someone I couldn't have. I mean, Melchior couldn't have. He couldn't have her. Like Lysander. I think it was just so that I could remember, Syllke. Zahari called us, Lysander and I, to the labyrinth that night for a reason. I'll never know what it was, because when the lights fell and everything went crazy, he died. But I think it was to help me remember."
Speaking so much made Seodai restless, despite the fatigue of his body, and so he shifted so that his head was propped in his palm instead, supported by bent elbow. He could see Syllke better this way, anyway.
"I'm not sure why. Melchior was this powerful magician. He was so strong. He was so different from me. I don't know what I'm supposed to take away from his life, or how it is supposed to help Denval."
With brightly colored eyes in sight, now, Seodai felt the courage he'd been so certain of before wane. When he'd trudged through the streets of Denval, desperate to find Noc, desperate to be made well again, he'd thought of Syllke. Of the way his skin had been so warm, despite the cool day, when he'd embraced him by the sculpture. Of the salt of his lips, and the way they'd spread heat all throughout Seodai's body with just a touch. Seodai felt like he'd just woken up from a confusing dream, and he realized now, at least, what was important. He also didn't want to lose his friend.
"I wish we could leave. I can't. I can't leave the farm, or Theo. I can't leave because Syna told me to stay, and I need Bala. But, gods, Syllke... I just... I just want..."
Frustrated with the inability of words to express his meaning, Seodai simply leaned down and ghosted his lips across Syllke's own. Once, twice, and again. And then he buried his golden face in the curve of Syllke's throat, one hand lifting to splay against the other side. His voice was muffled when he spoke.
"I'd have fallen apart without you, already. I don't know why you came, or how you came to be so important to me. But I wish we could just run away from this madness. We can find beached animals and saw off their horns, Syllke. We can climb cliffs and follow tracks and sketch things and anything else you want. I just want it to be like that, always. How easy it is, when it is me and you. I want to lay in the warm grass and kiss you, like we kissed that day on the cliff. I want to stay with you. I don't want to leave the Lyceum. I want to ignore all of it. Melchior, Lysander, Denval. I want you to make it better, because you make everything else better." |