Chapter Text
There were far too many people around.
Even in the best circumstances (in a library or other place where everyone had a clear goal in mind that had nothing to do with socialising; when not talking at all or with just one person who had questions he had clear answers to), Occtis didn't do well when surrounded by strangers. Even aquaintances were hard enough, but this? The flood of people walking so many different paths, talking and laughing and drinking and crying together? This was a nightmare. And the later the hour grew the more people were there and the drunker they got.
It was bad. Really bad. And the one person he actually knew and felt fairly safe with was busy keeping watch over the body, reciting the rites and Occtis felt so anxious. If it wasn't so borderline inappropriate, Occtis would have gladly send his sight and hearing into Pin to lie in a bush outside. But then his body would be left there, standing awkwardly and unable to respond if anyone started talking to him and, somehow, that would be even worse - the embarrassement of coming back to his body only to realise he had made a spectacle out of himself.
(He didn't blame Thaisha for leaving him alone. He couldn't. Not when this was a celebration in the name of a member of her immidiate family. Not when Occtis had failed her by not being able to answer any of her questions about why their plan didn't work out. Not when he couldn't even contribute to the rites - his connection to the Old Path nonexistent; his relationship to the dead man too weak to call himself a part of his family; his mind capable only of recounting another telltale signs of the body crossing another thresholds that waited for it beyond the moment of death.)
On the other hand, he was probably making people uneasy, just standing there in the corner, not talking with anyone, watching others interact.
People used to reprimand him for that. Said that it was creepy. But how else was he supposed to figure out their relations to each other? You had to observe to understand. It's just that when Occtis observed, he gave it his all, forgetting about doing the interaction part.
(Thjazi and Thaisha were one of the first people who didn't think it weird. They were patient with him. Answered his questions. Waited patiently for Occtis to make sense of his thoughts before he spoke.)
He had to get out of there.
No. Not out. Leaving would be disrespectful, this much he knew. But so would be wandering through the house of a family in mourning.
So not far. Not out. Somewhere close. Close but hidden.
Occtis watched Shadia carry out another tray of cold meats from the kitchen. He watched someone else, some distant member of the family, perhaps, walk into one of the rooms, pulling a pipe out of their jacket. Another mourner clapping a hand on someone's back, leading them to an adjacent room.
Patterns. The moving of people who belonged to this household and those who were guests for the wake. Occtis observed. He figured out it was probably okay to go into one of the rooms with doors left slightly ajar.
(If his assessment wasn't right, Shadia or someone would surely let him know. They seemed nice. Everyone in Thaisha's family seemed nice.)
It was a great relief when Occtis stepped into the room that seemed to be empty. He immediately went to the other side of the half-opened door so that noone passing by could see him and crouched down, hands wrapping around the back of his neck.
Breathe in. Hold.
It was okay. It was okay. He would just have to wait for the wake to end and then they'll talk with the other ones who were supposed to help with Thjazi's extraction and everything will make more sense.
Breathe out. Wait.
Wait.
But what if it didn't make sense? What if Occtis can't figure out what went wrong?
Breathe in. Come on, you can do this, just like Thaisha had taught you. Not the We're All Part Of One Breath nonsense, just the scientific thing of getting the oxygen into your lungs so it can get into your blood and power your brain.
Occtis' fingers started to beat a nervous rhythm on the back of his neck and skull.
Come on. Breathe in. You need oxygen to think. You need to think to figure this out. You need to figure this out, because how else are you going to repay for what Thjazi had done for you?
"Are you alright?"
Occtis immediately stood up. Back straight, shoulders tense. A flash of panic in his chest.
There was someone else in the room. They had to be there when Occtis had entered, he just didn't notice them sitting in the high-back armchair. It was the lion-man from before. Teor.
"Oh!" Occtis said and his voice was breaking again. "Sorry! I'm so sorry, I mean, I didn't see you here. I'll… I'll go. Yes, I'll go somewhere else," he said, already taking a step back to walk out of the room.
"No," Teor said and Occtis found himself freezing in place. This one word had more confidence behind it than all of the things Occtis had said this entire evening put together. "I assume you came here for a reason, didn't you? Maybe not to seek me out, but there was something you wanted when you walked into this room. You don't look like someone who just walks around other people's homes."
"I… I just wanted to take a moment. Away from all the…" Occtis gestured vaguely towards the main room. "But I don't want to disturb you."
Teor let out a huff that could very well be a very short chuckle. "You're not."
Occtis noticed that he's been nervously wringing out his fingers. He made himself stop and fold his hands behind his back. "I— I really don't—"
"Sit down."
There was no anger in those words. And it wasn't really a command. And yet, Occtis found himself crossing the room to sit in the other chair. But his back remained straight and he sat on the edge of the seat, not touching the backrest, hands folded on his lap.
"I don't bite, Occtis. And I don't plan to tire you with conversation. I respect someone wanting a bit of quiet. You can relax."
Occtis tried. But his mind kept working, as it always did. He tried not to stare at the man sitting to his right, but there were only so many books and tiles in the room to count and make shapes out of. So in the end, he ended up casting glances at Teor, noticing small things that he didn't saw during their introduction. The size of him in the chair. The silver in his mane. The streaks of discolored fur that had to grow over some old injuries.
At one point, when Occtis glanced at his face, he found Teor already looking at him. He quickly looked away, heart pounding in his chest. But Teor still didn't say a word. After a minute or two, Occtis risked another glance.
Those golden eyes were still focused on him, no sign of embarrassement.
Eye contact. That was the first step in engaging in a conversation with someone, wasn't it?
Occtis cleared his throat. "You… You knew Thjazi from the war, yes?"
"Yes."
"Right," Occtis looked down on his hands. This felt awkward. He started to fiddle with the cuff of his jacket.
"You're a thinking sort, aren't you?" Teor's question surprised Occtis into jumping in his chair.
"Um… Yes. I'm not… Not a warrior like yourself," he pointed at his own head. "It's all here. What I can do. It's not as impressive as…" he gestured towards Teor.
"Arcane talents are rare and valuable. You shouldn't act like it's not something to be proud of. Think of how much Thjazi had achieved and how much of it was due to his magic."
Occtis shook his head. The comparison was riddiculus. He was nothing like Thjazi. "I'm not like that. I can think, yes, but… I'm not the type to start the machine, just to help operate it. And it can get really loud and overwhelming sometimes. I prefer to have someone tell me what's expected of me. And that's not how one would describe Thjazi."
Teor rised an eyebrow at that. There was amusement on Teor's face. Curiosity. But also something… else. Something Occtis didn't quite know how to name.
(It was going to eat away at him - he knew it for a fact. He didn't like not being able to name things, to classify them. You had to name things to understand them. To figure out what should be your next step.)
"I see," Teor said. "Does it make you feel good? To have someone tell you what to do?"
Occtis frowned at that. There was something in the way Teor phrased the question. "I think… Yes. I don't really… Sometimes it's hard to… It's just easier to have someone else set the course. I mean… I guess you could say it makes me feel good? As in… safe. To have someone else call the shots when I'm unsure. Or just… Give direction."
This didn't make sense even to Occtis himself, but Teor kept looking at him, kept nodding with all the seriousness, like he understood exactly what Occtis was saying.
And the question was on Occtis tongue. A shy plea to explain, but then one of Teor's ears flickered to face the main room, the older man's face soon following the movement.
"I need to go. Someone I wanted to talk to has just arrived," Teor said, standing up from his chair. When he passed by Occtis, he put a heavy hand on Occtis' shoulder. "We should continue this conversation some other time."
And he walked away, leaving Occtis with questions.