NEVEN

Over and over again. As many times as it took to keep to his promise — to show Yuven the truth to his words. Every night terror Yuven had, snowy magelights left his fingertips to strike deepest, crimson shadows. It was a simple hope for Yuven to get any measure of sleep, and from the energy he had throughout the day, his attempts were working. Breakfast came and went, with Fenrer speaking with a measure of excitement to Yuven in Common, and Yuven who remained silent. I can't be his translator forever... Anaysa couldn't be mine forever.

Kemal's death glares struck him as he made careful cuts into Yuven's vegetables. A single phial of essence soaked into their stalks, to control the symptoms of corruption he had yet to see for himself.

Sleep called out to him, the comfort of his bed luring him to its embrace, but he shook his head of the prickling sensation in his head when the knife slid on Yuven's plate, causing the little Avaerilian to eye him in confusion, and Kemal's lips to twist in irritation. Until he got up with a whispered word of Hanekan to Fenrer, who finished up his plate and chased after the older Hanekan with freshened life. Neven smiled at their departure, then turned it to Yuven who continued to stare at him. Feathers thinned at the unblinking attention, Neven slid out of his chair to stand at the counter, to plan out the day though his thoughts derailed when he tried.

Something tugged on his shirt from behind.

Yuven glared up at him without blinking. "You said you'd teach me how to walk on water."

Neven checked on Yuven's plate, and a glimmer of hope at the lack of untouched food. Yuven ate everything. He turned around, kneeling to get on Yuven's level, but the motion almost sent him facefirst into the floor. Knee against the board to stop his descent, he shielded his weakness from Yuven who studied him. "How're you feeling? How was your breakfast?"

"What does it matter?" Yuven's brow scrunched.

It will always matter. Neven used his knee to push himself to his feet, a heavy weight on his shoulders, but he carried it while his body screeched for a final reprieve. Out into the backyard, the wind hushed foam across the ocean waves. Under the protection of the mountain's shadow, he guided Yuven to the creek which ran through their yard to carve itself deeper into the mountain and its caverns to feed life back into the world and its fertile soil. "You should know why I ask." Neven stepped onto the flowing water of the creek. "You know all magick requires stamina?"

"Yes." Yuven's violent-tinted eyes narrowed. "Are you saying I don't have any?"

"No. Quite the opposite." Neven chuckled. "You are very powerful, and have a lot of energy. It's about output. It's how glyph conduits work. It's the same concept here." He moved along with the flow of the creek with ease, though his body complained from lack of energy. "They need a constant source of energy. Namely, you." He spun around again, and Yuven sat at the creek to observe. With what little energy he had, he spread out the ice to carry him along the current. It tickled the edges of his boot, but he refused to disrupt the natural flow. "It takes one step-" He took a step forward. "And again." Another. "Extend your magick from your feet, and follow the flow. You need to trust it and the connection between your magick and the world."

Yuven puffed out his chest. "I bet I could do it in one go."

Before Neven could stop him, to guide him into a proper foundation, he leaped off the bank and fell face-first into the creek. Neven slid over to help him, but the motion sent a wave of weariness into his brow, but he held himself strong. "Let me—"

"No!" Yuven bounced out of his reach to rush up the bank and repeat the senseless, thoughtless leaps. Neven steadied himself from the continued disturbance to the natural current, and knelt down at Yuven's next attempt, which made him slide onto his hindquarters when he forced magick through his legs. "Don't look at me like that!" Water lapped at his shins.

Neven frowned. "Look at you like what?"

"Like I'm wrong!" Yuven balled up his fists. "I am powerful! I can do things other kids can't. I can do things Fenrer can't! I don't need your help!"

Neven raised his hands to placate the child, the exhaustion burrowing deeper into his mind and made the world shimmer with its flow. "I-I'm not trying to, Yuven, I'm just a little tired, is all."

"Are you tired of me already?" Yuven challenged. "Tired. Tired. Tired! All you do is nap! You shouldn't have offered to take care of me! Or is it just the 'job' of a Storm Warden?" Yuven fought against the flow, the current of the creek and ocean without fear or falter. "You were ordered to, weren't you? You didn't want this! You never wanted this! You didn't want to take care of a monster!" Arms up, Neven widened his eyes when watery glyphs raised around him, and then grunted when the current blasted into his face and sent him off his precarious balance. Soaked to his skin, he sat up with a wince as Yuven bolted for the house, but hesitated.

"Yuven." Hand on his knees, he tried to pull water out of his clothes, but the tingle spread throughout his chest and he let it go. "I can teach you how."

"I can teach myself." Yuven hugged himself then wandered back over. Neven found his balance and left small ice pads for Yuven to use until he found his own footing.

"Go on." He motioned at the ice patches. "It takes a single step. Again and again."

Yuven's brow scrunched with hesitation and uncertainty — the truth of his rage and defiance, of a small, pale-haired boy with nothing but a standing stone to hide behind. He stepped onto one of the ice patches with a fearful squeak. Down fluffed out in nervousness, Yuven took another step, a careful one, and magick extended to meet his intent on the flow. He's got room for improvement, but... he picked it up faster than I did. Neven beamed at him, hand outstretched. "See? Good job."

Yuven backed away from him instead, and Neven lunged forward when he stumbled on the ice again. With a tight hold on his forearms, as he squirmed in his grip, he steadied him on the bank. "I'm not going to hurt you," he assured, and loosened his grip to prove the action to his words. Released, he smiled when Yuven stuck his tongue out at him, and nothing remained but a shimmer of snow, a ghost.

His world spun when he left the clutches of the creek, his clothes soaked and his next attempt to pull water out of it simply spread it further. Into the living room, he hesitated when Kemal had returned with Fenrer, who waved at him with a big smile.

"Nev, can I talk to you?" Kemal asked, then came closer. "Alone?"

Neven hesitated, then turned to Fenrer. "Can you go talk to Yuven?" He waited for the younger Hanekan to retreat and disappear upstairs before turning to Kemal, confused. "What?"

"Neven, you look like you're about to drop."

"I feel fine."

"Well, I don't," Kemal complained. "Last I checked, I sleep like a normal ancient-damned person."

The world spun around Kemal, a drain of color. "Where is this going?"

"Neven, you keep waking me up in the middle of the night running back and forth. Last night, I heard you take a tumble, I think that's what happened at least. That, or you knocked something over," Kemal said, arms folded. "I get why you're doing this, but at some point, Yuven is going to have to learn that you're not going to be at his beck and call every second. You need to put your foot down and tell him no."

"Kemal, he has night terrors, it's not that simple. I'd rather not get sleep than him."

"Does that include constantly expelling magelights, even in your sleep?" Kemal scowled. "Kids need to know what no means. Do you know what no means, Neven? What is the Navei word for no?"

"...Nex?" It was a bit off-putting how the word slammed into a wall in his brain, but he shook out the swirling in his head.

"Gods... it should not have taken you that long," Kemal said with a groan and a rub of his brow. "Look, Yuven needs to learn it. He is already a willful, stubborn kid. You give him the answer he wants to hear. Always. I get it. Both of them have gone through the obscura hells and back, but Neven — you are their Guardian — and you need to take care of yourself so you can take care of them." Kemal prodded his chest, but the sensation numbed his rib-cage further.

"I need him to trust me."

"You think wearing yourself down until you're running on fumes will accomplish that? Neven, you can barely stand." Kemal gave him a nudge, and Neven steadied himself, slipping his fangs over his lips. "It's not going to turn out well if you keep doing this."

"It is working so far," he slid through a hiss.

"You don't know how to say no to that, and you need to be careful," Kemal pointed out, unfazed by his fanged threat display.

"Like how you need to be careful with asking questions?" Neven snapped and pushed him, though Kemal barely budged, and his arms screamed from the attempt. "Remember? You get yourself into trouble with questions, Kemal. Yuo nearly strangled you the one time. Sometimes I worry your questions will get you into something you can't equally get out of."

"It was a valid question that was well worth the risk of an answer," Kemal grunted. "And my questions don't exhaust me, Nev. You let him jump all over you when you're trying to get some semblance of rest."

"Are you suggesting I let him deal with his night terrors alone?"

"That is not what I'm saying at all, you stubborn, feathered jackass." Kemal shoved him, and Neven caught himself with the couch. "You are not thinking straight. You are too tired to think. You need to tell him you need to rest, and when you're resting, he needs to leave you alone." Deep in his vocal chords, a rattled hiss left through his nose, and Kemal raised his hands with a long whistle. "Been a while since I heard you make that sound. You can take my advice or not. We've been at this for weeks now. I am starting to feel second-hand exhaustion and it's gotten to the point I'm left wondering how tired you must be feeling for it to cross the Oathbound connection."

"He needs us."

"Yuven needs a lot of things." Kemal lowered his hands. "You draining yourself is not one of them. Fenrer has noticed your behaviour. He won't stop asking me why your aura keeps dripping into nothing and can't sleep through the night. Neither of them need this." Neven found himself at a loss for words, and a loss of threatening hisses at Kemal's logic, who huffed. "If we're on the same page, all I'm asking is that you figure out how to balance your needs with his. You giving up yours will not help either of them. It is not healthy, or responsible. You need to figure out another means to handle his night terrors without putting yourself at risk."

His fingers dug into the back of the couch when the world swung on a pendulum. "Again, what brought this on?"

"You were trying to cut Yuven's plate and I'm fairly certain Yuven — as observant as he is, has already noticed," Kemal pointed out. "You need to think logically and pragmatically. You were never good at those. When you're tired, things slip. You might mess up the recipes to Yuven's diet... and then it'd be Yuven that suffers." Kemal's voice slipped in and out of focus. Neven tried to grasp onto his Oathbound's voice, to keep himself in a waking world. He needed to be strong, he needed to stand against the abyss.

"Do you get what I'm saying?" Kemal asked through the flutter of music.

"He's not to blame." Neven straightened himself out a moment of drained clarity, but ooze filled his body. "He can't sleep in the dark—"

"I didn't say—"

The pendulum snapped.

Watery goo turned into a raging blaze as his body refused to cooperate with his one desire. Darkness swelled into a wave, the house disappearing. Blurry images rolled through his mind as he tried to cling onto consciousness, but his grip slipped. Flames burnt out, and he sank into the abyss.

The cries of a child, a baby, echoed through his ears and sent his feathers straight to find the source.

In the shadows of a black-scaled wyvern, whose feathers tore and frayed into mangled scales, he looked up into its cruel, relentless gaze as it revealed bloodied teeth. In the mirror below, it held a pale gold, feathered wyvern in its massive jaws, crushing its spine inch by inch. Wind rushed through instruments when the wyvern's tail flicked for life as its blood sprinkled below.

His senses drained out the moment the wyvern closed its eyes with a deep sigh, and all that was left was the giggle of a baby he failed to recall knowing.