YUVEN

The wind howled into a swirling storm in his chest. Down in the deep, where both wyvern and child slept, wrapped in a blanket of snow. Rivers broke the dams of coagulation of his life to sweep it away into the abyssal recesses. Crystals shone against pillars and centralized on an ancient tomb of Evyriaz' ascension. Another song softened the air, and he found his grip on reality and tore open his eyes to Neven not singing, but plucking on the strings in quiet contemplation. Shadows dug into his cheekbones as he kept his head against the pegs. He clenched his fist underneath the blanket, the flow slipping between his fingers. Pinpricks swept up his arm at his attempt at magick, and he frowned when it refused to respond to his focused call. Clarity concentrated on the lamps instead of Neven's face, so he tried to find other familiar things — to prove the truth of his existence.

"I'm alive?" he spoke out his hopeful terror, causing the blur of Neven to straighten out his feathers. Yuven winced when he came closer, into the crystals to brighten the sapphire depths. "Is this... real?"

"Yes." Neven squeezed his shoulder. "You should get more rest, though. Maria—

"No. Do not bother her." Yuven wriggled his arm out from underneath the sheets. For once... I don't taste blood. I don't taste stale death. He stuck out his tongue to lick his lips of the warm liquid which splattered across his front. His thoughts wavered when Neven rolled over to the alchemy station to sweep up a cup, holding it out to him with a big smile. "What?"

"Maria said that if you woke up to get something into you as a start to get you on track of recovery." Yuven found the strength in his hand to grab onto it without assistance, though none to lift himself up into a sitting position. Though he was no Aurus, Neven's happiness spread out all the same when Yuven used his shoulders to push himself into the pillows, shaking his head in one wild motion to stop Neven from assisting him over and over again. "How are you feeling?" His feathers shuddered in anxious rattles, his Navei slipping out as a broken song.

Yuven held the cup close to his nose, then touched the bubbly surface with the tip of his tongue. Sweet scents lifted into his nose when he poked at it once more, then pressed the cup to his lips, bracing himself for the decay of his insides, but tugged it back when it continued to hold its too sweet aftertaste, which he pushed down his throat to find the remnants of blood. One more taste. One more determination. He held the cup in front of him, licking the dregs off his lips as Neven scooted closer. "What is this?"

"Broth."

Yuven brought his lips closer to the rim. "Broth?"

"Yes, Maria wants to work through your current diet before throwing usual fare at you, but before that we have to ease you back into this," Neven explained, though Yuven hadn't doubted the reason, but the taste left on his tongue. The memory was all that remained of it. Yuven sipped at the last dregs to savor the sweet, unfamiliar taste of something he had over a thousand times before. He kept the rim pressed up against his lips with nothing left, and Neven's brow creased in worry. "Yuven?" Yuven put the cup back into Neven's waiting hand. He pushed his thumb into his eyelid to quell the crack of the dam. "This must be much to process," Neven said as Yuven set his hands back onto the blanket. "Maria also said that once she's gotten some sleep she will come and check on you."

Every breath filled his lungs without the bubbles of webbed tendrils. "How long have you been up?" he questioned. "Do not tell me you've been at my bedside since—"

"I had a nap."

"You have so many other things to do." Yuven tugged at the blanket to bring it over his chest. "Also, naps are a waste of time. We talked about this."

"Good to have you back, Yuven," Neven chirped through his teeth. "I don't want you worrying about me. You should eat more."

"Someone has to." Yuven drew his attention down the lute in Neven's lap, then over to the alchemist station where a huge tome full of Maria's careful, precise handwriting filled every tiny margin. Lists of unfamiliar herbs with side-effects and locales to find them and order from apothecaries. How much work have I put on your shoulders, Myl'la? He released the tension in his lungs and tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position, the savory taste slipping away from him too fast. "I could do with some more broth, I suppose."

Ever a Warden to his duty, Neven poured another cup without complaint to hand it over to him. "Before you ask, Fenrer is now up in his room resting from the events," he said, his shoulders sagged. "He took a haze bulb without much complaint, though I suspect it was more because he was not in the right state to complain."

"Ugh..." Yuven brought his palm to his nose, then added to the sweet, savored taste of life inside the cup. "Is Maria actually resting by sleeping or nearby lost in her thoughts? I do not think she slept since I was brought down here." He forced himself into a sitting position to drink the rest of the broth more smoothly, then tested the strength in his legs with a squirm. Claws drove into his feet, but he scoffed and handed the empty cup back into Neven's awaiting hand.

"She is sleeping in a free room nearby."

Dampness clung to his feathers, and he reached his hand through the flow to wrap it around the washing basin connected to the pipes. Its runes shivered with white flames, but he winced when his muscles contracted and he shook out the pain when the flow refused to bend once more. "My magick..." He dug his fingers into the mattress, then reached deep into his blood instead. Through the faint mirage, he swung his arm into its embrace to become the ghost he had once been, still was. He stopped when Neven squeezed his solid shoulder, and he tugged his arm out of the distortion of the world.

"You are exhausted, Yuven, you can't expect your magick to be what it was before," Neven said. "Your body needs time to reacquaint itself with the flow. I daresay once you're fully recovered, you might feel lighter when it comes to your expression of the flow." He put the lute in the corner and headed to the washing bin to pull it towards him. Yuven grabbed the cloth from underneath it to wash his face, then dipped his hands in to whisk out the uncomfortable stickiness from his feathers. Anything to remind himself of the flimsy truth of his life. Tongue out, he coughed when it came in too sharp through his nose, and dared to reveal his hand.

No black, corrupted blood of a Derelict.

Neven smiled, but he found himself lost.

"I think I need to get more sleep," he admitted out loud, checking on Neven's reaction. His gold feathers fluffed out when he took the basin back to its slot in the wall. He sidled himself back underneath the blankets as Neven headed for the door. "Go get some sleep instead before your body decides the floor is an appropriate bed," Yuven bit. "Since I am no longer going anywhere... fast."

Neven raised both eyebrows, not in surprise, but a deep-rooted, parental affection which almost made him plead for him to stay instead. "If I know you... soon enough you'll be going everywhere too fast and I won't be able to catch up once again, even more so than before," he joked, then left the room and the door closed behind his shape. Yuven flicked his feathers until his footsteps disappeared in full.

Certainly, Miesero, but I also have better things to do — someone I need to reaffirm this reality. The only person that could.

He found his smile again.

Yuven slipped out of the bed and pressed his feet against the cold stone tile beneath his soles. Grounded to his plane, and lighter to his life, he spread out the distortion and took the first, hardest step. His skin rippled through the darkness as his sight left him for his magick's. Volcanic heat came from a source deep in the well of the mountain, a spiderweb of power which provided the entire citadel with energy. Memories and knowledge of its deepest recesses from his exploratory ventures still in his mind, unburnt from the corruption's insatiable hunger, he flitted as a ghost between rooms, careful not to knock anything with his movements. Though kept on his ghostly trail on the main floor, finding the courtyard as he stepped out of the wall and landed in front of Fenrer's door. His knees stung from his utterly disgraceful adjustment, but he found his footing and whipped around.

Good... that I can still flit through space and time... that felt different though. Yuven shuffled for Fenrer's door, then pushed through the veil of an entrance. Moonlight shed into the room as he stood beside Fenrer's desk, where his old notebook of Navei sat in a dusty little corner, along with the auric cards packed tight in their container in the half-open drawer. Everything he gave no notice to with his limited time. A map of Haneka nailed to Fenrer's wall, a reminder. "Fenrer?" Yuven whispered and twisted to the bed. His Oathbound slept on his stomach, breathing lightly without the burning morning flames eating away at his body. No longer tortured by his corruption, his face covered by the pillow.

I need to make sure.

Yuven stopped at his side, then cracked the pressure out of his hands. Though his magick was reluctant to reveal itself, he had other means to awaken Fenrer from restless slumber. He prodded the lamp on the endtable to give it life, returned to him, then sent his foot into the side of Fenrer's mattress with as much strength as he could muster. "It's morning, Molvisaliz. You're wasting time once again. We've got to get to get going, remember?"

"Mm... morning, what?" Fenrer swung his head to the window, eyes half-lidded. He groaned and hauled himself upwards by his arms into a sitting position, legs crossed as he rubbed his face. "What are you talking about, Yuven, it's barely..."

Yuven grinned at the power in a name when Fenrer went silent, his hand drifting down his cheek as he turned with widened, emerald disbelief. "Barely morning?" he finished as Fenrer went as still as a statue. He straightened himself out when Fenrer hauled himself out of the bed with a rub to his side. "Good to know you can keep track of time."

Fenrer drew his gaze up and down his body, and Yuven frowned at his stunned lack of words. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Molvisaliz." Just tell me this is real.

"I just—" Fenrer's expression crunched into a wave of anxious uncertainty on the border of tears. Yuven bridged the gap to hug him tight, the person who carried the undying piece of his soul and followed him into the infernal hells all the same. The heat from before had disappeared completely. Solid. Alive. Breathing. He was breathing too, and it was real after all.

"I suppose your infectious belief in me did something," Yuven mumbled through his own blocked tears when Fenrer hugged him back, much tighter than he was ever able to manage. "If it wasn't obvious, I shouldn't be here. But, when have I ever let that stop me?" He bounced on his knees, unable to contain the growing energy in his heart. "I'm alive, Molvisaliz." It was hard to speak out the truth, but it left his lips all the same, and his time extended past its due. "At least, I'm here to make sure that I am from the said spirit whisperer himself." He smiled at his own joke then drew himself out of the hug at Fenrer's shaky frame. "I'm going to be one of those that never leaves you alone."

The auric spiral in Fenrer's eyes never moved when he whispered, "Most spirits can't hold onto the solidity of our plane, Yuven." His brow scrunched once more, and Yuven grinned when Fenrer hugged him closer once more. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I shall deign not to answer that."

"So... yes."

"Don't be so happy to see me."

Fenrer pulled back with a frown. "I am without words to describe how... relieved I feel," he whispered. "I am also half-asleep."

Yuven squished his cheeks. "I apologise for waking you," he said. "I know that you suffered along with me."

Fenrer shook his head in one wild motion. "No, you were suffering the most. What I experienced was but a fraction."

Morning flames glittered when Yuven squeezed his hand at the precipice, chewing his blood deep. He opened his mouth to question, but found himself without words. Mist swelled into the greens when Fenrer stiffened — a shard of the emotions Fenrer always refused to acknowledge, setting them aside for someone else.

But I'm alive.

Yuven pressed his brow against Fenrer's. "This will be the only time I ever drag you out from sleep out of a need for assurance, understand?"

I'm alive. Ghosts can't hold onto the solid plane of Aztryxer.

The more he said it, the more it lightened the weight on his spine.

He was alive; nothing short of a miracle to free him from the constant smell of blood and decay left in his taste buds.

It almost made him grasp how Fenrer could pray to Ancients who existed not as deities, but as people, flawed and alive.