Because out of all the other first years, I could follow you, Han hadn’t said to Quy when Quy had asked why.

After Quy left to go incognito-healing, Han had gotten Raah to help him some more training. Yang’s offer sat at the back of his mind, but somehow, he didn’t want to intrude on Quy’s work down at the lower districts. And he didn’t want to anger his mother.

Deep inside, he was half afraid that it’ll be too awkward. Could they really pretend to not know each other down there? And what if Han slipped, and said “Quy” instead of “Khai”?

The week passed quickly. Between Han, Raah and Jin keeping an eye out for the other factions, and the occasional scuffle, it seemed like the other groups had mostly calmed down.

And Han once again found himself in the same predicament: mother and sister gone, and no food in the house. So Han ventured out to Thon’s tea shop, but there was no crowd.

“Eh, Han? Good evening, boy!”

Han nodded to Thon’s grandfather. “Good evening, Mr. Kiri.” Han’s eyes slid around.

Thon’s grandfather chuckled. “Looking for young Khai, hey? He’s a sweet boy.”

Han spluttered. “Well, I—”

“Ach, he’s over at the Fountains. Said he should be studying, but the kids have him lighting water on fire.”

“What?”

The old man shrugged. “So I heard.”

“You haven’t seen it?”

“I’ve been sitting here, haven’t I?”

“Han!” Thon yelled out. “Take the old man and go!”

“Well, Mr. Kiri?” Han said apologetically. “I could move the earth beneath your chair.”

The man grumbled. “Help me stand,” he said instead. “Khai keeps pestering me about walking and all.”

“He is a healer,” Han said. He helped Mr. Kiri up, and they slowly walked to the Water Fountains.

Water on fire was clearly an exaggeration, Han realised when he saw it. It was more like light in water, and light was heat—heat Quy could control.

Quy’s book bag was set aside, forgotten, as kids jumped up and down in one of the larger fountains soaking wet.

“Oh dear,” Mr. Kiri said. “Their parents are going to kill me.”

Quy turned towards them. And suddenly, he smiled. “Mr. Kiri! Han!”

Han’s chest tightened.

Mr. Kiri nudged him. “Let me sit,” he grumbled.

Quy headed over. “Doesn’t that feel better?” he urged Mr. Kiri. “Movement creates heat. But Han or Yang would fashion a walking stick for you.”

“I’m not that old,” Mr. Kiri said blithely. He grinned at the kids. “Look at them! Such joy.”

“Mr. Kiri!” the kids shouted. “Come join us! It’s fun! Healer Khai made the water all nice and warm!”

Mr. Kiri chuckled. “I don’t think people want to see an old man dripping wet.” He prodded Han. “You two. Go off and talk about whatever young men these days talk about. I’ll mind the kids.”

“Yes. We should talk,” Quy said, his voice suddenly serious. He turned and moved to a relatively secluded area of the fountains, away from Mr. Kiri and the kids and other random passers-by. Han followed him.

“Did something happen at Baashi?” Han asked in a low voice.

Quy frowned. “No.” He glanced away. “I appreciate it that you’ve kept this quiet.”

“I bet Lord Quyen doesn’t know about it.”

Quy made a strangled sound. “No, he most definitely does not.”

“Why the name, though? ‘Khai’ is fine, but you could have chosen a better fake name,” Han said, aiming for light-heartedness.

The air suddenly heated up.

“It’s my name,” Quy gritted out. The air temperature quickly become normal again. “It’s fine. Forget it.”

And if the ground opened and swallowed Han up, everyone would know that it was on purpose. “I—I didn’t mean—”

Quy/Khai shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’ve been training with Raah,” he said abruptly. “It shows.”

“Er—thanks. But, Quy—or Khai. If Khai’s your name, then what about ‘Quy’?”

“It’s a long, private story,” Quy/Khai said, looking away. “Khai is my true name...but it’s probably best if you just call me Quy.”

“No.”

Khai, Han thought to himself. Khai-Khai-Khai.

Khai looked at him. “Pardon?”

“If Khai is your real name, then I’ll call you Khai,” Han said firmly. “Names have power. And I want to call you by the right name.”

Khai’s eyebrows drew up as the corners of his lips went down. “You have to call me Quy at Baashi.”

“I can do that. Trust me.”

Khai bit his bottom lip. “I do.”

“Khai! Han! Come over here!”

The two of them stood up smartly at Yang’s call. She was with a group of women, all carrying heavy baskets filled with...uncooked food.

“Help me build a cooking pit,” Yang ordered Han. “And Khai, we need a good, strong fire. Seeing as the kids are all having fun out here, we mothers have decided that it’s the perfect time for a great meal together.”

News spread, and by the time night fell, there were many families gathered by the Fountains. Khai had set multiple mage lights in the air above them, giving a bright ambience in conjunction with the various cooking flames, the smell of food in the air, and the sound of chatter and music and laughter.

Han found himself seated on risen-earth benches around a fire with Yang, her son, Thon, Mr. Kiri, and Khai. Mr. Kiri was recounting one of his old stories. But clearly Khai hadn’t heard it before, and he was listening with rapt attention. Han, who had heard the story over a dozen times, Han zoned out watching Khai’s face.

Thon jabbed Han in the side. “See something you like?” Thon whispered.

Han jolted. “What?”

Thon glanced at Khai pointedly. “He looks so young, hard to believe we’re all the same age. I wonder what his skin care routine is.”

“Mages tend to age slower,” Han reminded him. “And he’s a healer.”

Thon grinned. “What? You think he heals the wrinkles away? You need a lot of healing sessions then,” he said, smirking.

Han shoved him.

“Boys,” Mr. Kiri shook his head with a world-weary sigh. Han was suddenly aware of Khai looking at him and laughing, and he immediately reddened.

“It’s nice to see childhood friends,” Khai said, now smiling. His face turned regretful as he got to his feet. “But I think it’s time for me leave for the evening.”

Han’s stomach sank. “Yeah. I do as well.”

After the multiple round of goodbyes, Khai left, and Han hurried home.

There was light peeking from under the curtains in the front window. Gulping, Han entered the house. Both his mother and little sister Mian were in the front room. Mian’s homework was arrayed on the table in front of them.

“Back late again,” his mother said archly.

Han bowed deeply. “Good evening, Mother. Good evening, little sister.”

His mother gave him a look. “Where were you?”

“I was having dinner with Mage Yang.”

His mother grimaced. “That woman again? I better not see you in some sordid relationship with her.”

Han shook his head. “Yes, Mother.”

Mian snickered. “Don’t worry, he’s gay,” she whispered.

“Don’t say such things,” his mother snapped.

“Sorry, mum,” Mian said, returning to her books, but not before she smirked at Han.

Han bowed his head, suddenly afraid that they would see what he had been doing afternoon in his eyes. “I’ll go to my room. Good night, Mother, little sister.”

There was nothing between him and Khai/Quy, he thought to himself as he went up the stairs to his room. His little sister was just saying that to rile him up, like how she dangled her favourable relationships with their parents in front of Han.

He was suddenly very glad for Baashi, and the opportunity to get away from his family.

*