Vera

Vera stumbled out of bed, half asleep. She stretched, yawned, and prepared her gear for practice. Her body was still sore and bruised from sparring with Heron. The bastard. He used his affinity instead of hand-to-hand. Vera smiled. He may be an Eruli, but without his affinity, Vera easily beat him in martial arts. 

Quinn was already awake and preparing breakfast. “Good morning,” she said without a hint of tired in her voice. 

“Mornin’ mom. Gonna do some forms.” Every morning, Vera practiced her stability, flexibility, and body control. A three-section-staff was challenging to use, and every part of her body needed to be prepared. One day, she would rise to the rank of Guardian, like her master, Karla, and her rival, Lyle. They were both out on missions, but when they returned, she planned to challenge Karla once more. Though, she would be happy just facing the twerp, Lyle.

With a sheen of sweat, Vera sat at the kitchen table with Quinn. 

“Who do you fight for?” Quinn asked. This was routine.

“I fight for myself.” Vera replied.

“Why do you fight.”

“To overcome my limitations.”

“Where do you fight.”

“Where needed.”

“Good.” Quinn placed her food on the table, “You make a good guide. One of the best.”

“Not like it matters.” Vera moped. “I’ve done everything I can do to beat Lyle on the way to reaching Karla, but I’m still not recognized how I want to be recognized.”

Quinn sighed. This too was ritual. “The difference between Guardians and guides is not so great that you can’t overcome it. When you truly live and fight for yourself, you’ll understand it.” Quinn patted her head. Vera felt every wrinkle through her short hair. 

“Pfft. You’re the one who makes each Guardian’s specialist tools. You could make me a Guardian anytime you want if you just…”

“Vera. No.” Quinn said sharply. 

Once Quinn was upset, there was no reaching her. Vera forgot that her mother, ancient as she was, was one of the five heroes of the Eruli civil war. Her petite frame and aloof attitude hid knowledge and skills that earned her a general title, access to Berkan’s politics, and a professorship at the College. Simply put, her tone held a frightening history of leadership. 

But Vera was stubborn. She devoured her meal, gathered her staff and gear and prepared to walk out for work. 

“What’s your duty today?” Quinn asked as Vera was half out the door. 

“Overseeing a trade between rival farmhouses on the outskirts.”

“Okay. Be careful. I love you.”

Despite feeling much too old to feel giddy about her adoptive mother’s affection, Vera felt heat rise through her chest and she couldn’t help but smile. 

Heron

Heron’s eyes shot open. He slept little that night. Asch was alive. He remembered little of her. She was soft-spoken and kind. Back in Perth, everyone said she was the spitting image of their mother. Asch and Heron’s mother, Crystal Ire, was the principal hero of the Eruli civil war, and one of the five along with Quinn. Asch, like their mother, had four affinities, but during her sigiling….it went wrong. Here in Berkan, it felt like everything was finally coming together. He felt like he was on the path of his mother and sister. 

Opening the door, Heron spotted Gust looking ghost-like in the hallway. He failed to suppress a chuckle. “I think I’ve only seen you like that when you and your ex were….”

“Shut-up, shut-up, shut-up,” Gust shouted in a whisper. “I swear, if he wakes up and hears that.”

“Oh?”

“He’s scared of the dark and hasn’t slept by himself in years, ok.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Wow.”

“You’d get it if you slept with him.” Gust crossed his arms and pouted. Heron stood next to him and ruffled his hair.

“No, I don’t think I would. Anyway, he knows about my sister, so bring him around again. I think I scared him last night.”

Gust pulled away with a sly smile across his face. “I don’t think he likes fighting.”

“Anyway, I’m heading out. I’ll be gone until late again.”

“You don’t stop...do you.”

“My mother wouldn’t.” Heron removed his smile as he walked down the stairs away from Gust. Quinn’s breakfast was still hot for him, but he’d felt less hungry since they’d moved to Berkan. He skipped it. This change was welcome. Everyone in this city expected him to be like his mother; their shared and unique silver hair meant that anyone with any memory of the civil war knew he was an Ire. He needed to prove himself.

Ferek

Once the sun set, Ferek knew that Gust’s head now belonged to him. In the morning, he didn’t forget.

Gust

I drooled on him. The thought stayed in his mind all the way to the College. By far, the was the best night’s sleep Gust has ever had. No contest. Lucifer was incredibly comfortable to sleep with, but for the love of all that is good, he did not want Lucifer to notice the wet spot on his borrowed night clothes. 

Class was too easy for him. Unlike in Perth’s academy, the school of runificery at the college was a mix of practicality and theory. Plus, it did not require an affinity. Gust absorbed how runes were inscribed and combined for different overall effects. The combinations were nearly endless. 

The problem with using runes was preparation. Eruli simply drew the energy from the world around them or their own bodies as naturally as breathing. People like Gust needed to first draw a rune that would siphon in energy of some sort, then a rune to release that energy in a proportional manner, and then syntax to connect the two. Not only this, but the runes were a language themselves, and the syntax needed to make linguistic sense. It was baffling and wonderful, and Gust finally found a place amongst the Faver he never found as an affinity-less Eruli in Perth. 

Lucifer leaked into his head as Gust daydreamed during Advanced Transferal Syntax. The sigiling helped Eruli control their affinity. It helped them focus on a single point and release their affinity, but Lucifer bypassed that. It was as if his entire body released his affinity. Gust wondered how many years it took for Lucy to control it. Even while he slept, Lucifer’s affinity felt like a soft, warm hug. The butterflies in Gust’s stomach fluttered. He recalled the softness of Lucy’s sides and arms. He wondered how it would feel to trace his skin, to hold his hand. What do his lips feel like? The classroom buzzed, the lesson was over, but Gust was lost in thought until the instructor ushered him out.

Lucifer

Lucifer yawned, stretched his arms and legs, and sat up. It was nearly noon. Waking up in an unfamiliar bed scared him, but he understood he was safe. There was a wet spot on his chest, and he chuckled. Ferek does not drool, just snore loudly, but he was still used to it. He changed into his own clothes and headed downstairs. Quinn left a note on the table, surprisingly in his own language. It read: You certainly sleep late. There is tea in the pot and leftover biscuits. Gust is at College. Heron and Vera are working. I have some business to conduct. Stay or leave. Remember, college, hall 4. 3 days from now. Best. - Quinn

The tea no longer steamed, but that wasn’t a problem. The bread was hardened, but he didn’t eat much anyway. Lucifer wondered what he should do for the day. Ferek would be out doing odd-tasks so they could feed themselves, and he didn’t want to talk to him anyway. In the empty home, Lucifer felt loneliness creep in on him. He shivered, and decided that he hadn’t visited the Horizons orphanage in a few days.

Horizons was in the poorest district of Berkan, two districts away from Quinn’s home. Lucifer had picked up enough about the Eruli civil war about forty years ago that he knew its effects on the city still ravaged the poorest classes. He hated how long grudges, money, and tradition lasted here. In Amostarri, everything was simple: they who have strength succeed. Here, strength mattered little compared to circumstance. Faver were cut too easily. They died of disease, lack of food, or poor shelter. They were lured by banditry on the trade routes or thieving from the upper classes and died as punishment. The class system sickened him.

Like every building in the poor district, Horizons was made of stone. Rich people used wood. Local residents waved at him. He waved back and flashed his smile. Inside the building, a baby’s cry pierced the air. He knocked.

It took a minute, but a woman with lighter skin and bobbing up and down with a crying baby in one arm. “Geez, Lucifer. Hi.” She handed the baby to him. “Trevor’s working, the boys were just fighting, and Lulu’s trying to make dinner. Please keep Eliza and calm her down for a sec. I don’t know how you do it, but you’ve..”

“I got it, Christine. It’s nice seeing you too.”

“You’re the best,” Christinesaid before dashing off to the small yard. 

The baby had a fever. He cooled it, and Eliza coo’d and giggled. Carrying the baby, he stepped inside to the small, living area. A rich smell permeated the home, so Lucifer followed his nose to the kitchen. 

Lulu was a petite girl. Her skin was blotchy and her hair thin. Her clothes had stains from who knows where, but they weren’t coming out no matter how many times they were washed. She stood on a stool over a large pot of stew. 

“Smells good.” Lucifer said.

The girl turned and almost fell off her stool. “Lucy!” She tripped over herself, forcing Lucifer to catch her while holding a baby.

Lucifer laughed. “You’re a disaster.” 

“Am not. You’re so warm.”

“And you’re always cold.” Lucifer embraced her with one arm as he stood her upright. “The pot’s bigger than usual.”

“The runificer’s coming today!”

“Are they now?” 

“Yea, we won’t have to piss out-back anymore! And all the lights and the heat and everything’s getting a fix.”

“I hope there’s enough for me too.”

Lulu’s lips pouted. She backed away and stood back on the stool, hands on her hips. “You get rotten apples.”

“Delicious.” Eliza began snoozing in Lucifer’s arms. “I’ll set Eliza in her crib.”

Lucifer heard Christine scolding Cole and Andy in the hallway. He set Eliza in her crib in the living room and kissed her forehead, keeping mind of her so the fever wouldn’t get worse; at least while he was here she could be a happy baby. 

Loud, excited voices pierced his ears from the hallway. “Uncle Lucy’s here!” Loud feet pounded the floor. An eight and a nine year old charged him. Lucifer barely made it to the sole couch in the room before the boys tackled him into it. 

“I’m nowhere near old enough to be your uncle.” Lucifer said, patting their matted hair. They smelled. “What were you two doing?”

“Cole was cleaning up the shitter, but then he pushed me into mud with shit hands and then I hit him and we were…”

“Ughhhhhh.” Lucifer shoved the boys off. They giggled.

“Boys,” Christine still sounded angry. “We are getting you cleaned one way or another and it can’t be here till our baths are fixed, so we’re going to the public bath. Lucifer will have to wait.”

“But...but…” Cole and Andy tried their best begging faces, but Christine was resolute, grabbing both of them by the ear.”

“Luci, I’m sorry to put this all onto you. Trevor should be home within the hour and we have a runificer coming to help us fix some things. Lulu knows where they need to go, so could you just help her out until Trevor gets here.”

“If I can get a new shirt, sure.” Lucifer beamed a smile at her and the boys. 

“I have no idea what we did before you arrived.” 

Lucifer’s smile somehow spread wider across his face. “You did your best.”

It was only another fifteen minutes before loud knocks rapped at the door. Lulu was stirring the stew, so Lucifer opened the door.

“Huh?!” Gust muttered, his mouth forming an O in surprise. 

An old woman in a wheelchair shouted from behind Gust. “Whatcha stopping for? I gots work to do. Out of the way.” The wheels seemed to glide over the bump in the doorway seamlessly. She literally pushed Gust into the doorway. Lucifer caught him and moved aside.

“Hi.” Lucy said, holding Gust’s side.

“H-Hi.” Gust said, looking away.

The older woman in the wheelchair stared into Lucifer’s eyes. 

“Yes Ma’am?”

“Where am I going to fix the…”

“Oh, Master runificer!” Lulu slid around the corner, ladle in hand. “This way, this way. It’s stinky.”

“Oh good. Gust, stop flirting and come carry my things.” 

“I’ll be a second, Lucy.” Gust said, following the runificer with a heavy backpack in tow.