32 Winter, 511 A.V.
A light misting rain had accompanied the two young men to their designated appointment earlier in the evening. A fitting entrée, Seo had said somewhat dispiritedly, for the dinner to come. Denval was a small place, and Syllke had already sussed out the identity of his friend’s parents. But Seo had never offered to make an introduction, and Syllke wasn’t the type of person to press such things. Over the months of their acquaintance, it had become clear there was some estrangement here. He was content to let it lie, though, assuming the Denvali would tell him what lay at the root of this alienation, if and when the time was ever right. Since that odd and beautiful morning that Seo had slipped into Syllke’s bed, they had grown incredibly close. Yet, still, Seo had not brought up the subject. Syllke had raised his expressive eyebrows, then, several days before when Seodai had announced that he was taking the Vantha to have dinner, with his parents. Still, he chose not to probe, instead slipping his arms about Seo’s waist and giving him a quiet hug, saying only, “Good. I want to meet the people who gave me you.” He wasn’t going to jump in with platitudes or reassurances about how lovely this evening would be – getting to finally converse with his lover’s mother and father. The whole thing was obviously problematic – Seo never spoke of these people who had had at least some part to play in his formation. Almost immediately after that queer morning of cryptic revelations, Seo had dragged a willing Syllke off to meet his uncle, Theo. That had been literally one of the best nights Syllke had passed since arriving in Denval. His own heart was warmed to see the closeness between the two – ready to appreciate anyone who could appreciate how wonderful Seodai was. This night, though, would be quite different.
Seo had been as quiet as a stone on the way through the little town, and Syllke had held his hand, hoping to reassure him that, whatever happened, he’d still be on the other end of those fingers laced with Seo’s. The dinner, to be blunt, had been pretty damn awful. Seo’s parents were a trip – and not in the good sense. Throughout the two hours or so in their company, the Vantha had somewhat subconsciously listened to the changing patterns of the rain on the roof and against the windows. By the time they were ready to take their leave, the lighter rain of before had intensified to a fairly steady downfall – certainly enough to give them a good drenching by the time they reached the Lyceum. Still, he would have died before he suggested waiting a minute longer. Syllke was a tolerant person, but even he had had enough.
Stepping outside, he drew in the fresh night air deeply. Though technically it was winter, this night seemed to be confused, and the rain that fell against his cheek reminded him more of a late spring shower. He had had some trepidations about the stealing cold that now seemed to seep into his bones at the most inconvenient times. Clearly, the malicious magic at work in Denval had messed with Morwen’s gift, and his gnosis mark’s functioning would seem to flicker on and off at random. To the Vantha, the sensation of cold was disturbing, as well as uncomfortable. But right now, at this moment, it seemed to be fine and he barely thought to note that, so happy he was to be away from that strained, tense atmosphere. He felt like he had suddenly burst free of a cage made of awkward glances and strangled conversational snippets. He felt he could suddenly breathe again.
Once more his fingers found Seo’s, and for the moment, Syllke’s hand was warm, comforting, the squeeze reassuring. Before they had gone ten steps, he pulled Seo close enough to kiss his wet cheek.
“That was . . . fun,” he said with a grin.
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