Work Text:
Kaveh let the hood of his cape slide off his head, too stunned to care about the light rain wetting his hair. A forest clearing opened in front of him, overgrown with luscious grass and dotted with flowers that looked as if a dragon had lost a bag of rubies on their way to its lair.
Tall trees swayed in the breeze, sturdy guardians of this oasis' peace. Kaveh didn't dare to breathe any louder lest he disturb the calm silence. With the decadent smell of moss and fresh water in his nose he slipped off his horse and made a couple uncertain steps. Foliage dipped under his weight—but not like a bog would.
"Wait a moment, Mehrak," he mumbled distractedly and the smart mare snorted before dipping her head down to snack on the grass.
It wasn't a bog, he decided. No, this was rich, heavy earth; it supported life, plants and animals alike with its generosity. Kaveh jumped lightly on one foot and creased his brows as it disappeared an inch into the ground. Maybe stable enough for a house. Maybe.
The gentle bubbling of the stream reached his ears and soon he was standing in front of it, further path towards the clearing cut off.
Light filtered through the leaves over his head, gentle pattern layered over the crystal clear water like the most exquisite lacework. Kaveh let himself enjoy it for a couple moments, his fingers itching to reach for the sketchbook tucked behind his belt, but… He was here becuase he had something to do. With a sigh he stepped on a large rock that conveniently allowed a dry passage over the water.
"I wouldn't go any further if I were you," someone said. Kaveh promptly screamed and slipped right into the stream.
The water was freezing, soaking into his woolen cape and trousers like oil into dry wood. Kaveh had half the mind to run, but he just curled down in the mud and grabbed the dagger fastened to his waist. He wouldn't go easy, not like this—
"What are you doing?"
Kaveh lifted his eyes. It wasn't a monster or a bandit standing inches away from him. It was a… man? At least at first glance he looked like a man, dressed in sensible clothes, though maybe unfit for the slight chill in the air. But then Mehrak crunched down on some fresh grass behind his back and the man turned back nervously.
A quiet gasp wrenched itself free from Kaveh's lips. The man, no, the creature had pointy ears hidden beneath its silver curls and skin tinged with patches of green and brown, almost like a young branch broken off a tree. There was an unnatural grace in its movements, akin to a willow bending in the wind, as it spun back on his heel and went back to staring into Kaveh's face.
"What are you doing?" it asked again with a frown. Kaveh quickly flipped thorugh his options, realised he didn't have any, and cursed his life under his breath.
He put on his most disarming smile while tightening his grip on the dagger. "Hello. I slipped, as you can see."
"I didn't mean to surprise you," the creature said. "If you walked over there there you would be dead, so I wanted to warn you."
Kaveh choked on his saliva. "Dead?!?"
He risked a quick glance behind his shoulder. The clearing looked as calm and inviting as before. Now that he thought about it… Maybe too inviting.
The creature blinked owlishly. It had really big eyes, in a shade of green Kaveh'd never seen before. There were matching red dots in the middle of each iris, almost like drops of freshly drawn blood. Its gaze was truly disconcerting.
"You should have sensed it on your own," it said and was it scolding him? The nerve! "Especially with your heritage."
"I have no heritage," Kaveh cut it off sharply. The creature wasn't a danger; not anymore than the foreboding clearing, and his clothes were soaked. "I'm getting up, don't get spooked."
Gently, slowly he rose from the stream. Not half as graceful as he could be, because his legs were stiff and frozen blue, and his cape dragged him back down. Fantastic.
"Mehrak," Kaveh called softly and his wonderful companion trotted right over, bits of grass still sticking out of her mouth. "Good girl, thank you."
The creature stiffened as Mehrak looked in its direction. Was it scared of a horse?
Kaveh quickly searched through his luggage for something dry and warm. There was however just a single thick blanket he sometimes used in lieu of a tent. The rest, he now remembered, was drying near the fire in the last tavern he'd frequented. A favour from their side, to thank him for sketching up a new stable for their guests. It'd been quick work on his part, and with a warm dinner and (in the future) clean, warm clothes he felt he'd gotten the better part of the deal.
Well, until now. Now he was shivering and at least three hours away from the tavern. He'd planned to be back by sundown, but it seemed like he'd sooner freeze to death.
At least the rain was letting up now. A small comfort but a comfort nontheless. He could perhaps light a fire, get rid of the clothes and try to dry them by the flame (ugh, he would smell like smoke for the next week!).
Kaveh cleared his throat. "Thank you for your help,…"
The creature glanced at him then went back to staring at Mehrak.
"Um, what is your name?" Kaveh said after the silence got too awkward. "What should I call you?"
"Names carry a great power," it mumbled and stepped back a couple of steps. Was it just Kaveh, or had its clothes lost a bit of their human quality?
"Right. Right," they did. Sevens, if it had asked Kaveh for his name, he would have given it freely— "So what if I call you… Sage? Like the herb?"
It tilted its head in question. "Why would you need to give me a name?"
Gods, that being was infuriating. "Because I feel mean otherwise. Have to thank my saviour properly."
Interest flashed in Sage's eyes. Was it just Kaveh's imagination or did he see fangs slipping out of its mouth?
"Would you say you… owe me a favour?"
Oh, fuck.
"Um…" Kaveh let his hand down slowly, inching it towards his waist. Maybe he would have enough time to throw his dagger and then gallop away on Mehrak, but somehow he doubted it. Sage looked like it was fast. "I…"
"I've never had a favour to spend before," it said, voice hesitant. "Should I… What's the best—"
"I can spend a night with you," Kaveh blurted out then winced immediately. Damn him and his mouth! Would it kill him to think through his words at least once in his life?
"A night… for a life? Doesn't sound very fair," Sage narrowed its eyes. "Are you trying to trick me?"
"No, I'd never, haha," Kaveh saw his life flashing before his eyes. He forced out another awkward chuckle. "But don't you get lonely in these giant woods? I thought it would be… nice for you. To have company."
Sage hummed under its nose. "I see. Humans value companionship."
"Yes, yes, exactly. So, do you agree?"
Kaveh clenched his jaw in anticipation. Please, please…
"I want to give you a name, too," the creature said quietly. "I need it to bind us together for the night."
"Oh," Kaveh blinked. Seems his strategy managed to save his life and soul. Thank the Sevens. But a name? His own pushed itself onto his lips, but he swallowed it back down. Sage was dangerous, and maybe Kaveh wasn't the smartest, but he wouldn't give it his life for free. "Since I gave you one, it's only right."
He smiled wide, the one smile in his arsenal that made his dimples more prominent. The one that sometimes stood between being thrown on the streets and sleeping on warm hay. "What will you call me?"
Sage creased its brows again. It would take it some time, Kaveh realised. He might as well get out of his sopping wet clothes, since the slight shivers were already becoming full body trembling.
With a sigh he slipped out of his trousers, thankful for the shield the cape provided him in the process, and then wrapped the scratchy blanket around his waist. Rest of the clothes followed, and finally he was left standing in only his shoes and undershirt (miraculously only moist on the bottom), swaddled in the blanket like a newborn.
Sage, meanwhile, had taken to muttering to itself under its breath, its eyes unfocused as it stared into space. Kaveh felt slightly honoured; so much care into choosing a name for him.
"Light," it said finally with a note of conviction. "Let me call you Light."
Kaveh felt that maybe his new name could have more of an oomph, but decided against any protests. Instead he held out his hand, the other one gripping his blanket tightly. "Should we make a deal?"
Sage slipped its hand onto Kaveh's, their palms facing each other. Its skin was a bit calloused, not unlike tree bark on a young birch. Sage locked its eyes with Kaveh's and opened its lips.
It must have been words. A spell perhaps. Kaveh felt all his hair standing when a rush of energy entered his body, warm and somehow familiar. He did his best not to flinch as Sage continued, its voice sweet like honey, like dripping syrup…
Light shook his head and looked back at his companion. Sage was tilting its head in curiosity, and Light laughed gently before smacking his hand away without any hard feelings.
"I don't feel anything," he giggled again. "Sage, you're not very good at this, huh?"
Sage pressed its lips together into a thin line. "Tell me your name, please."
"It's…" Light felt it bubbling in his chest. It wanted out. Wanted to be known. "My name is K—"
Mehrak whinnied loudly and Light— no, Kaveh — gasped with icy fear in his veins.
"What have you done to me—"
"A pity," Sage said. "I hoped it would be enough to break your mind."
Its voice changed. It was more steady now, flatter. Sage sounded older and Kaveh realised what a fool he'd been.
"It's not your first deal with a human, is it?" he asked, resigned.
Sage raised one brow. "It is not. Yet you all fall for the same trick time and time again."
Of course it had lied. Fae were under no obligation to be truthful. They would weave webs of halftruths and straight up lies until a naiive traveller got stuck in their trap. Just like Kaveh had.
"Yet unfortunately I cannot take more than I was promised. A single night," Sage stepped right into Kaveh's personal space, so close Kaveh could see his own eyes mirrored in its green ones. "I won't promise not to try and take your name again. So you can try to fight it… or spare me the boredom and share it out of your own volition."
Its hand rested lightly on Kaveh's cheek. "Your choice."
Kaveh's heart hammered in his chest like it wanted to escape the confines of his ribs. "I'll take my chances," he spat out, and Sage stepped away grudgingly.
"As you wish, Light," it said. "Though, now that I know it starts with a K…"
"I have to start a fire," Kaveh blurted out. Sage froze in the middle of the sentence. "Where's the best spot?"
"A fire?" its voice was disbelieving. "How primitive still."
A blush of anger covered Kaveh face. "I'm freezing cold because you scared me! How else would I get warm? If you'd rather snuff out the life you'd just saved, go ahead and just drive a sword through my heart—"
Sage scoffed. "There are better ways to get warm. Let's get out of here. The day will near its end before we agree on starting fires in the heart of the forest."
Kaveh looked around their spot for the night quietly. His feet hurt; Sage had insisted they walk, so Kaveh'd followed the fae obediently. Mehrak trotted behind them both with light steps, for once no burden on her back. She certainly enjoyed their journey, but after two hours of travelling through the forest Kaveh simply wanted to die.
The icy fear in his stomach grew as he realised that if Sage disappeared, he wouldn't be able to find his way back. Not from here, where trees covered the sky tightly with their branches and each shadow pointed in a different direction.
Before they'd departed Sage had snapped its fingers and dried his clothes out enough for Kaveh to actually put them on, which he was thankful for. Trekking miles while wrapped in a heavy blanket seemed like its own special kind of hell.
"Can Mehrak stay near or would you prefer I tether her a bit further away?" Kaveh asked as Sage began walking in circles around the small space between the trees.
"She has to stay inside," it answered and made a decisive step forward. The ground flashed for a second, and a mass of fireflies escaped from the tall grass at the edges of the circle. "Otherwise the spell won't hold."
Kaveh hadn't missed the slight snarl in its mouth though, so he made sure Mehrak stayed on the opposite side of Sage as he gently patted her side and took off the saddle. "Rest for now, brave girl," he whispered. "We're leaving first thing in the morning."
Sage must have done some more magic behind Kaveh's back since now there was a flickering ball of yellow light rising from the forest floor. It looked as if a flame was trapped in glass, light filtering through it in all interesting ways. As he stepped closer Kaveh realised it was pleasantly teetering on the edge between warm and hot.
"So that your human body doesn't freeze at night. There might be frost coming," Sage said offhandedly. Its hands moved fast, practically blurry, and Kaveh realised he was looking at a prepared resting place, all branches and leaves moved away and only a neat layer of dry moss strewn for them to sit on.
Kaveh blinked as he thought about what they might do on that bedding. Were fae supposed to be skilled lovers? He wasn't really sure. For now he cleared his throat and slipped down on the moss, his sketchbook in hand. Fae or not, he'd kill himself if he didn't at least try to sketch this incredible magical fire.
With quick, loose movements he created a silhouette of the flame, the shadows it cast and the way it seemed to simply sink into the grass at its base. It was a shame he lacked coloured pencils and paints, but nowadays those were far too expensive for him to afford.
"What are you doing?" Sage sat down next to Kaveh. Its eyes flickered to the sketchbook, then back to Kaveh's face. "Are you studying how to make it on your own?"
Kaveh flinched. The instinct to slam his sketchbook shut almost won, but he forced himself to relax and look calmly in the otherwordly face next to him.
"I cannot do magic," he said. "I just… it's beautiful. I want to remember it even if my memory fails me one day."
"Hmm…" Sage went back to staring and Kaveh let his hand fly over the page, still slightly damp from his fall into the stream.
When he finished light had already snuck away from the sky. Dusk creeped in instead, deep dark green under the canopy of age-old trees of the forest. The flame cast weirdly yellow light over Sage's face, making its unhuman features stand out. A reminder for Kaveh to be more wary of it.
"Is this where you take everyone you manage to trap with your lies?" he asked offhandedly and closed the sketchbook.
Amusement showed itself on Sage's face. "I never come back to the same place with a different human. There's always the risk of someone coming back for revenge."
It carded its fingers through its silver hair. It gleamed like a full moon now that the sun had set and Kaveh almost went straight back to start another sketch.
"Also, you seem very set on crtitiquing me for my lies," Sage continued. "And yet you keep doing the same."
"I'm not lying," Kaveh said quickly. "You're delusional."
"Oh, and here it is again," Sage licked its lips. Its tongue had a light greenish hue to it. "Another lie, heavy and worn out. You keep repeating you can't do magic, and yet I can sense deep reserves of power in you. What do you have to say about that, hmm?"
"Your senses are wrong," Kaveh glanced away from Sage. "And I'm hungry. Do you want to eat something or should I just prepare my own rations?"
Sage frowned. "I don't want your weird human food."
"Be my guest," Kaveh mumbled and set to preparing his dinner.
There wasn't a lot to prepare. He had a container full of soup that a barmaid had given him in the morning with gentle thanks, and he set it next to the fire to let it warm up. Finished for now he sat back down with a sigh, the moss nice and springy under his weight.
Sage seemed uninclined to carry on with the conversation, so Kaveh happily obliged and kept his silence. As soon as dawn would break he would hop on Mehrak and run away. Even if he really had no idea where they were at the moment.
The forest all around readied itself to sleep. Last bird calls before the night sounded clearly through the air; Kaveh recognised a few and wanted to comment on that. Yet he reminded himself that Sage knew all that already, and besides, the less they talked, the better.
Less chances for a slip up on Kaveh's part.
They stayed in silence until delicious smell of food wafted in the air from the container—Kaveh happily stood up and poured himself a full bowl. That tavern was a good sort; there was meat and various vegetables swimming in rich dark broth. Kaveh tucked in, ignoring Sage that stared at his bowl with a disgusted face.
"Why is your dinner… liquid," it said through clenched teeth. Kaveh stilled with a spoon halfway to his mouth.
"Don't you eat soup?"
"I hate food that pretends not to be food," Sage answered viciously. "Impossible to walk around while eating. Easy to make a mess."
Kaveh snorted under his breath and ignored the fae's indignation. Gods, it surely wasn't the weirdest thing it would say to him tonight. He finished his meal quickly, however, not eager to put the creature on edge for too long.
Night fell around them in earnest now. Mehrak snorted softly under the trees as she readied herself to sleep and Kaveh felt his nerves snag on his forced smile. Any time now Sage would reach out with its too sharp nails and tear down Kaveh's clothes. Claim him for the night.
Kaveh supposed it wasn't a high prize to pay for his life. He'd paid the same amount for less.
"Tell me a story, Light," Sage asked. Kaveh's head snapped in its direction, but the creature was staring into the magical flame, its face blank. Bored? "Any story about you. I want to know what kind of life I've saved."
Laughter bubbled in Kaveh's throat. Sage would be disappointed that it'd wasted its warning on such a speciman.
"I travel around a lot," he started vaguely. The words seemed stuck to his tongue; pushing them out was almost a physical effort. "I like drawing, as you saw. Mehrak is my companion; she's been with me forever, it feels like. I… I'm almost twenty six years old. Um… I used to study architecture—"
"What is architecture?" Sage interrupted and Kaveh's voice gained an animated tint.
"Oh, I suppose you have no need for that in the forest. Do you sleep just like this," he gestured to the forest around them, "everyday?"
"I have a favourite tree that has a hollowed out base," Sage admitted grudgingly. "Answer my question."
"Architecture… We build our homes out of wood and stone and brick. They are often tall, taller than three people standing on each other's shoulders," Kaveh glanced at Sage to check if it was still interested. After all, what fun were his musings about construction materials? But the creature was looking at him, keen curiosity in its face.
So Kaveh continued.
"To build them safely we need people who can calculate how much material a specific kind a building will need, who know how to put in the support columns and beams, and so on. But architecture is also about beauty. Human cities may be polluted and chaotic in comparison to the peace of a forest, but there is harmony to be found there. Palaces, temples, streets and squares… If the right architect designs them, the atmosphere of art can hang in the air even in the loudest and filthiest alleyway."
Sage hummed under its breath. "So what have you designed?"
Kaveh's chest constricted and he struggled to catch his breath for a second. His design…
"I didn't finish my studies," he managed to say, voice tight. "I'm not allowed to design anything. If I did, I could be prosecuted and thrown into jail."
"Ah," Sage nodded. "Why didn't you finish your studies, then?"
Sevens, this fae and its questions. Kaveh turned away from its waiting gaze and back to the fire. "It just… life turned out that way."
"This wasn't a very good story," Sage complained under its breath. "Tell me more, Light."
Kaveh's shoulders rode up to his ears. Really, he would just prefer to get it over with.
"Can't we just get to it?" he asked. His fingers flexed, just once. Stupid nervous habit. "Take what you were promised and stop butting into my past."
"Get to… what?" Sage sounded genuinely confused. It cocked its head to the side and creased its brows together. "I was given a night with you. We are spending it together. What other end goal should there be?"
A rare night breeze ruffled leaves overhead as Kaveh let out a muffled sound. A cry perhaps.
"So, wait, you don't want to—" his voice broke and he tried again. "You don't want to sleep with me?"
"We can sleep, if you get too tired, but I'd prefer to listen— Are you crying?"
Kaveh angrily swiped across his eyes. "No."
"Why would sleeping make you so—" it squinted at Kaveh in sudden understanding. "I am not sleeping with you!"
"Yeah, I gathered," Kaveh sniffled. Sevens, relief was flooding his veins and he felt so lightheaded he could faint. Sage had a wide eyed astonished expression on its face and looked almost… funny. As much as a deathly dangerous magical being could.
"I do not enjoy such activities," Sage added. "Especially not with someone who tears up at the mere possibility."
"It's not— I'm just relieved, okay? It's never very enjoyable to me," Kaveh wrapped his arms around his knees, curling down on himself. He could feel Sage shift next to him.
"Doing things one finds unpleasant seems counterintuitive," it remarked flatly and Kaveh scoffed.
"Well, sometimes it's either that or freezing to death outside when my coin is all spent," he pressed his eyes shut. "I don't really want to talk about it anymore."
Sage seemed to understand. It cleared its throat reluctantly and changed the subject. "Can you show me something in your sketchbook? Something you enjoyed drawing?"
Kaveh nodded after a second and grabbed the notebook from where he'd left it to his side. It opened by itself, as it always did.
"Is this a palace?" Sage asked, glancing over Kaveh's shoulder. "Did you design it?"
The page laid flat, the drawing old but still as vibrant as the day Kaveh'd painted it under his mother's careful eyes. No doubt because of the exorbitantly expensive inks he'd used. The gold pigment shimmered in the low light of the flame and Kaveh traced it lightly with his finger. It followed all the lines of the building, outlining it in sunlight.
How wasteful he'd been with things like that back then.
"It's just a drawing. A concept. There's a lot to do before something like this becomes a design," Kaveh grazed his teeth across his lip. "But yeah, it's a palace. I wanted to build it for my mother once I graduated."
"But you didn't."
"No, I didn't. So the palace stayed on the page," Kaveh still could see the blueprints he'd begun to draft for it. They must have burned down with the rest of his things, he supposed.
"It would have been beautiful," Sage said neutrally. "It seems very… like it grew out of the forest itself. Natural, I think."
"It's organic. That's what my proffesors called this type of design."
"Organic," Sage tested out the word on its tongue. "I like it."
"Well… Thank you."
Kaveh felt the tips of his ears warm. It'd been so long since someone appreciated him for his artistry, not for the hands on ability to design utilitarian sheds. The people that paid him to warm their bed didn't care about his creative side either—unless it was put to use to bring them pleasure.
Kaveh cleared his throat to chase the memories away.
"I've actually drawn some more buildings to accompany it. Would you like to see them?"
They flipped through Kaveh's entire sketchbook, ending on the rough sketch of the flame he'd drawn on their arrival. Somewhere along the path of discussing his various ideas and thoughts Kaveh stopped thinking of Sage as a creature. He was so vastly intelligent, and showed so much curiosity about the human world and the way Kaveh saw it, that it seemed simply wrong to call him as such.
Finally Kaveh closed his notebook with reluctance and yawned loudly. Hours must have passed since sundown, the air chilly against his skin and the sounds of the night animals permeating through the forest's being. Somewhere far away a wolf howled to a moon Kaveh couldn't see and he flinched.
"It won't come near," Sage said. Sometime during their conversation he'd scooted closer to Kaveh. Now their thighs were pressed together, shared warmth grounding Kaveh firmly. "I made sure to weave a warning into my spellwork when we arrived."
"Oh," Kaveh blinked tiredly. "That's good. Mehrak doesn't like wolves."
"And you do?" one corner of Sage's mouth lifted slightly. "Humans usually run away at the first sound of them."
"I don't either," the admission came easily to him. It felt right to expose this weakness of his. "I've spent too many nights scared they would sneak up on me in the dead of the night."
Sage sighed. "You could always learn how to put up safe borders on your camp."
"I can't," Kaveh said stubbornly. He couldn't. "I'm just human."
"Hmm…" Sage stretched his arms above his head. "I'm going to lie down, but we can keep talking."
Kaveh felt cold and alone the second they broke physical contact. "I'll lie down too, wait."
He dragged his blanket over to their mossy bed and made himself comfortable. Sage had given him the side by the fire; the flame warmed him pleasantly and Kaveh yawned again.
"I hope you don't plan on falling asleep yet, Light," Sage said conversationally. "I haven't heard all of your stories yet."
Kaveh hummed, scooting closer until their bodies were almost touching. "The rest of them are pretty pathetic. Not worth telling."
"I like pathetic."
Kaveh rolled his eyes. "Believe me, this isn't a goodnight story."
"Good, because I'm not going to sleep tonight."
"Have an answer for everything, don't you?" Kaveh asked rhetoretically.
Sage shrugged and his shoulder brushed against Kaveh's. "I like to know. And I won't tell anyone else about it, because there isn't anyone living around here for miles."
"Wait…" Kaveh lifted himself up on his elbow. "No one? What about your family?"
Sage kept his gaze pointed steadily upwards. "They all perished a long time ago. I think it's been over ten years since the last of them, my grandmother, returned to earth. It's hard to keep track of time sometimes."
It must be, Kaveh thought. For Sage living through the cycles of seasons on his own, snow falling, then thawing, then falling again must have been challenging. With no one else to rely on, time… tended to disappear.
"I suppose you can have one story," Kaveh conceded, even if only to get that weird curl of Sage's mouth off his face. "But I get to choose. And it's a bit— Well, you'll see."
Sage turned on his side. "Choose away."
Kaveh cleared his throat. Now it were his eyes that were glued to the trees above as he began, voice gentle and soft.
"There once was a boy, only seven years old…"
"I thought this was supposed to be your story," Sage interrupted. Kaveh sighed.
"Just listen. I thought beings of your age knew what patience is."
A prickly silence answered his remark and Kaveh took that as a sign to continue.
"So, as I said, there was once a boy, only seven years old. He was as happy as a boy of that age could be. He had two loving parents, and together they spent days painting, reading and telling stories. The parents had hair just as bright as the boy; they liked to say they are a small constellation, all three of them."
Kaveh stopped to take a breath. His tongue felt leaden when he started talking once more.
"One day the boy's father wandered off into the forest to search for berries to feed to his precious wife and son. The boy was excited and urged him to go deeper than usual, since the sweetest berries were said to grow there. The father, full of love, agreed and stepped foot in the darkest part of the forest. That was the day one of the constellation stars dimmed forever."
"The boy wept and his mother never said another word about her husband again. They continued living in their house, too big for two. Then, when the boy was less of a boy and more of a man, seventeen winters behind his belt, a bright future in front of him, unrest spread across the land. Magic, people said, was blight that killed crops, poisoned livestock, maimed humans. Magic, signs of which every child knew. Ears that were not round enough, eyes too bright and lively for a mere human, skin in a wrong shade of pink."
His voice was nothing more than a whisper now.
"The boy stayed with his mother until the end. His father was dead and forgotten by everyone but them, and the boy concealed his own ears carefully with spells. But it wasn't enough. When anger was hottest, it striked against their house. The boy managed to get away. His mother was lost to the ocean of rage. And so, the constellation became one lonely star hanging on the firmament."
There were tears, hot and tingly as they spilled down his face and sank into his hair. Kaveh exhaled with a shudder and fell silent.
"So you can do magic," Sage said after a moment with satisfaction.
"Is this all you took from the story?" Kaveh asked, immediately brimming with annoyance. "Here I am, baring my soul to you because I felt bad for a lonely fae and you use that against me—"
"I didn't mean to offend you," Sage seemed to realise his mistake. "It just explains a lot."
There was a gentle tug on Kaveh's sleeve and he reluctantly tore his eyes away from the darkness above. "What?"
"What happened to the boy after that?"
"Nothing worth telling," Kaveh wanted to turn back away, but Sage's eyes were too inquisitive to be ignored. He pressed his lips together in a thin line as he thought back through these past years. "Truly nothing."
Sage blinked fast, as if understanding something. "It's your life. It's always worth telling."
"Not this part, sorry. It was just… survival day after day. There is no story to weave from it." Kaveh yawned, wide and fake. "Time to sleep, Sage. I hope your spells hold up. Goodnight."
He turned on his side, facing the fire and away from the fae and its big eyes full of questions.
"Goodnight, Light," Sage murmured in response. "May your dreams guide you where you need to go."
If only he himself could find that out... The soft breathing of Sage and Mehrak lulled Kaveh to sleep, his eyes falling shut soon after.
He just hoped Sage wouldn't nibble on him while he slept.
Kaveh woke up with a start. The fire was but a small flamelet barely lighting up the grass it was growing from, but the air was still cold and sluggish with sleep.
The space by his side was empty. It screamed at Kaveh with its absence of a body and the warm embrace of dreams dropped off his shoulders as he sat up, his heart in his throat.
Had Sage left him here? But the sun hadn't gone up yet, so he should still—
Mehrak whinnied softly somewhere in the shadow and Kaveh turned to her, words of comfort already on his lips when he heard a steady murmur of words.
"—wasn't fair of me to judge, yes, I know, but your kind isn't associated with good memories for me—"
Cloaked in shadow, Sage was curled up next to Mehrak, limbs loose and all tangled. His hair looked like it was pure starlight, the way it sparkled in the low light of the flame. There was something about his silhouette that prompted Kaveh to squint in the darkness.
Ah, Sage had changed. He was no longer wearing the white shirt and simple trousers he'd donned before. Now he was wrapped head to toe in a dark material, practically black in the night. It made the stark contrast of his hair even more captivating and Kaveh grabbed his sketchbook without much thinking.
Movements careful not to alert the fae, he copied the scene in front of him on paper. It was regrettable to have to use only his graphite pencil, but maybe one day he could go back and go over Sage's hair with silver pigment. The brightest he could find.
When he finished with a slight huff, light had already began colouring the tops of the trees. It wasn't dawn, not yet, but night was nearing its end and Kaveh felt a squeeze in his chest at the thought. What would happen then? Would Sage lead Kaveh back where they'd come from? Would he bid him farewell with a calm steady voice and disappear into the trees, never to be seen again?
Sometime when he'd been drawing Sage dozed off. He looked cold, arms bare, and Kaveh quietly tiptoed up to him and Mehrak and covered his upper body with his blanket. His head wasn't clear; taking care of fae wasn't a move that would be cosidered reasonable.
Fae were dangerous, even fae that were sad and lonely and craved company. But wasn't he part fae himself?
Kaveh brushed his fingers against the tips of his ears, magic having worn off in the night. He didn't feel dangerous; never had. However all of his hometown had seemed to think differently despite knowing him for all his life. That had hurt him most out of everything that happened. Their neighbours had known them; waved at Kaveh since he'd been able to walk. They'd commissioned his mother to build their houses, their shops, their temples. They'd smiled brightly when Kaveh had followed in her footsteps.
And then they'd set fire to their house with his mother still inside.
"Who's dangerous now?" Kaveh mumbled, looking at Sage's peaceful face. Such questions couldn't bring back his mother nor provide him comfort, but they kept nagging at him, like a half healed wound. Scratching it open would only leave a scar, but Kaveh couldn't stop himself from doing it anyway.
He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, feeling his back crack after the night spent on the ground. He should get ready to leave, so once Sage woke up he could disappear as fast as possible.
Kaveh bit his lip. Where would he go? To the tavern to gather his clothes… and then?
With a sigh he plopped down on the grass next to Sage and shuffled closer to feel his body warmth. Staying here would be stupid, but… one more day couldn't hurt, right?
Birds started welcoming the new day, their voices clear and bright in the air and Kaveh waited with bated breath, Sage's warm body stirring right at his side. Perhaps his fate could change. Perhaps… perhaps he didn't have to be a lone star anymore.