On his final night as Nicolaisson an hour after the auroras had faded, Jason stood in the corner of their family's living room, violin poised under his chin as he rehearsed the pieces his mother had selected.

His arm ached as he played, throbbing in protest where the dark purple bruise had appeared on his bicep, but he kept his elbow at the correct angle regardless.

He'd been lucky. Regan hadn't told anyone about his incorrect advice to the Pixie girl the previous night, and his mother had been in a good mood following her Speaking, claiming that the Shadow of Skypillar was gathering and deepening the nights in preparation for her arrival.

Whatever the reason, Jason had just been grateful for their forgiveness.

Aurelia strode across the room, heels clicking rhythmically on the floor as she paced back and forth, attention completely devoted to the notes in her hand. Regan lounged across one of the couches, Liasier in hand, while their father, Nicolai, sat at his usual chair with the small desk beside it.

"Aurelia, I do think you're overcomplicating things," said Nicolai, swiping across his tablet and making a note of something. "You've participated in the choosing ceremony enough to be sufficient at it."

"Sufficient isn't good enough," muttered Aurelia. "A Banshee will Ascend soon, which means she could very well be part of the group arriving tomorrow. I have to make an impression, enough that she will remember me and select me as her first High Speaker."

Nicolai replied after a long pause. "You seem awfully sure of a Banshee's arrival."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," Aurelia said. "You'll likely call it luck when it happens. I don't particularly care, as long as in public, you remain supportive."

"Of course, dear," Nicolai said in a flat tone. "Nothing gives me greater pleasure."

Aurelia directed a scathing look in Nicolai's direction, who paid it no mind. She straightened herself, smoothing down the side of her hair. "You'll thank me when I become High Speaker. It will make everything infinitely easier. No more being in the correct place at the correct time to accidentally engage with a High Speaker, no more running them favours trying to gain their good graces. I'll finally be the one directing the conversations. With my guidance, this Banshee will outshine even Harpy and Wyvern."

"If you say so," muttered Nicolai. "I'd be satisfied with any sort of improvement to help me push the new decrees out. Sometimes I wonder why this City even bothers maintaining a government if the temple is going to have such a large say in everything."

Aurelia sniffed and went back to her notes. "While the temple is incredibly capable, we do need assistance with the more... menial management tasks."

"Ah yes, such menial things such as food production and distribution, economics, wages and restrictions for jobs that don't require talking to a magic mountain."

Aurelia managed a sickly sweet smile. "You always did struggle to grasp the larger picture, my darling husband."

"As did you, my dearest wife."

"It would be a shame if you were ever to Manifest in the future over something so petty as the unwillingness to learn about Skypillar's graces."

"If I ever find the time to Manifest, I'm sure your amazing Banshee will be more than capable of saving me, assuming she does Ascend."

Jason did his best to focus on his playing, to ignore the building knots in his gut with each word traded. He pushed them down, down, down--deep below the melodies and rhythms that his violin wove from its pale yellow glow. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that he was in his room, alone and quiet with his headset pressed over his ears, and--

"Jason!"

Jason's eyes flashed open to find his mother glaring at him.

"Next song!" she snapped. "You've been practicing that one for the last five minutes."

He didn't speak, choosing to instead incline his head and start the next song. His arms had begun to tremble, faltering several of the notes, but if anyone noticed they remained silent.

"I suppose I should ensure you're ready for tomorrow so you don't ruin it," muttered Aurelia.

She lowered her notes and looked directly at him--a demand for him to maintain eye contact as she turned her body towards him and solely him. On the couch beside her, Regan glanced up from his Liaiser and smirked.

Jason prepared himself.

"Which songs did I ask you to prepare?" said Aurelia.

He continued to play as he replied. "The Twin Moon's Cry, Fury of Starlight, A Shadow's Ballad, and the complete list of minor instrumental themes featuring the currently active Luminaries."

"What are your duties tomorrow?"

"To greet those who arrive and assist in directing them. I will also be playing at the following celebration for the newly chosen, as well as ensuring my own name is chosen."

"Why is it so important that you ensure your performance is perfect?"

"The High Poisonspeaker has granted me a great honour in asking me to perform. In addition, I will likely be expected to lead the music division of the festival's performance group next year, and as such must be seen as confident and capable as to not embarrass myself or complicate the decision for the High Speaker tasked to it."

Aurelia's questions halted as she continued to stare at him, like she was trying to find something, a crack, however small. And then:

"What name will you choose?"

Jason's playing hesitated as the question caught him off guard.

"You still haven't decided yet, I see," said Aurelia with an exasperated sigh. "I suppose I should have expected such a thing, but you'd better have an answer well before tomorrow. I won't have my own son seen hesitating on his chosen name. I recommend Poisonsong or Stonesong. Figure out which one you like better. Regan?"

Regan, who'd been paying all too much attention in the past few minutes, gave Jason a smug look. "Yes, mother?"

"Watch your brother tomorrow," said Aurelia. "Ensure he doesn't do anything I wouldn't approve of."

"Of course, mother."

Their father cleared his throat. "And Regan?"

Regan was a little less enthusiastic as he turned a reluctant look towards their father's chair. "Yes, father?"

"Sit up," said Nicolai, not bothering to glance up from his tablet. "And get your feet off the couch. I won't have any child of mine acting so sloppy."

Regan huffed and made a dramatic show of pushing himself to sit up straight. His feet hit the floor with two distinct thuds. "Is this better, father?"

"Indeed," their father replied. "Now take a hint from your brother and drop the attitude with those feet of yours."

Regan worked his jaw. "Wouldn't want to take too many hints from him. The incompetence might be contagious."

This time, their father looked up.

"Room," said Nicolai. "Now." He lifted a hand towards Jason and waved him away. "Both of you. I've had enough for tonight."

Jason didn't need to be told twice. He packed up his violin with a well-practiced efficiency, collected the case, and headed up the stairs within a minute of being dismissed.

Regan was quick to follow. As their parents remained in the living room to throw quiet words at the other's direction, Regan closed the distance between him and Jason.

"You got me in trouble," muttered Regan. "I'm gonna be watching you really closely tomorrow, brother."

At the top of the staircase, well out of sight of their parents, Regan reached up and pinched Jason's arm, exactly where the dark purple bruise lay under his sleeve.

Searing pain shot through Jason's arm, all the way from his shoulder to his elbow as his arm spasmed. The violin case slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor, excruciatingly loud with every thunk thunk thunk of the stairs it descended.

"What was that?" demanded Aurelia's voice.

"Jason dropped his violin!" Regan called back, flashing Jason an all too amused grin before he disappeared into his room and closed the door.

Jason practically threw himself at the violin case, twisting his ankle against one of the stairs as he stuck his foot out to stop the case. It'd only gone down four stairs. The case would protect it. It couldn't be broken. The auroras had been and gone for the night. If it was broken, then tomorrow--

He secured the case flat on one of the stairs and flicked it open.

The violin was undamaged.

Aurelia's heels stopped at the bottom of the stairs as she glared back up at him.

"The violin is unharmed," said Jason, fighting to steady his words. "I apologise, mother."

She didn't say anything, ending the encounter with a final glare as she twirled back towards Nicolai and continued their discussion in a low voice.

Jason forced himself to breathe and clipped the case closed once more. His arm ached to the point of going numb, but this time, he held the case close to his chest with both arms. He took the stairs carefully, one gentle step at a time like they were covered in ice, shoving down everything that was rising, flooding, threatening to make him shake and tremble and fall.

He reached his room. He placed down the case on his bed. He walked back to his door and closed it.

Everything bubbled. Surfacing. Rising. His clothes were strangling him. He couldn't breathe. He was overheating and swaying and blurring out of reality as the walls crept closer and shrank the window with the stars outside.

He needed something--anything to anchor himself.

Music.

Jason grabbed his headset from the shelf. He flicked open the case and attuned the violin to his headset, grabbing it by the neck and lifting it to his neck with a borderline desperation. Every second was another moment for panic to slip in, another moment where--

He shut his eyes and played.

Cold. Quiet. Calm.

The notes were long and slender. Stretching, reaching, though for what he didn't know. He didn't have an answer. Didn't have a reason. His aching arm numbed and his panic froze over. He just kept playing and playing and playing, wandering an endless wasteland in a search for something to hold onto, to give the melody a reason for existing at all.

Jason wasn't sure how long had passed when he finally reopened his eyes, but his arms were trembling from exhaustion. The sudden silence was little more than an empty echo. He heard each of his breaths, felt each of his steady, even heartbeats. His thoughts were aligned in a straight, clear path with everything else swept aside as he followed them.

He packed away his violin, then his bow, then his headset. He clipped the case carefully shut and replaced it at its usual position on the shelf. He turned to his bed and pulled back the corner of the covers in a perfect triangle and adjusted the pillow.

Yet as he turned to pick up his sleeping clothes, Jason's attention caught on a glimmer from his window.

He paused, turning to look outside.

The stars looked back at him.

The numb, cold, silence endured.

Jason turned away.

He changed, brushed his teeth, and went to sleep

*+*+*+*