“I’m starting to think you’re not invested in this, Severin.”

“My name is Zaki, not Severin.” Zaki tapped the end of a pencil against his lips. He and Veloda were sitting under the shade of a tree in a forest to south of Tawglav.

After he found Veloda in the temple, friendship fostered quickly. Veloda seemed determined to take Zaki under his wing, teaching him all about the world. He was happy, but there were a few things rubbed him the wrong way. The fact that Veloda called him Severin was one of those things. While he felt like he and Severin, who he had learned was the original owner of most of his memories, were intimately intertwined, they were different people. He hadn’t been able to explain this to Veloda, not that the demigod would’ve listened.

“Zaki, sorry,” Veloda sighed, “You know how hard this has been for me.”

He nodded.

“Learning that my best friend has come back from the dead was one of the greatest things to happen to me. I’ll need time to adjust to his new body.”

He nodded again, but his hand clenched around his pencil. Severin hadn’t come back from the dead, just his memories. Zaki wasn’t a hollow shell that had been filled by Severin. However, he had to concede that they were more alike than they were different. Through Severin’s memories, he felt as though he had lived those moments too. Did that make them the same? If it did, then why did the thought strike him with such overwhelming wrongness that it made him nauseated?

“We don’t look the same, do we?”

He had never seen Severin’s face in the memories. He wondered if their noses sloped the same direction, if they had the same birthmark on the inside of their elbow, or if they had the same smattering of freckles across the arch of the shoulder. The same freckles that Veloda liked to trace with his fingers.

Veloda cocked his head, “Similar, but not the same. You could’ve been brothers.”

“Did you like how he looked better?” He didn’t know why he wanted to know so badly, nor why it would hurt if Veloda said yes.

“I’ll answer that if you can tell me the origin of this flower.” Veloda held up a purple bud with a light green stem.

“Is it a violet?”

“Is it a—” Veloda shook his head, “You’re not even trying! Violets don’t grow in Erasima.”

“I am!” He was, but learning about plants was boring. There was a staggering amount of information to learn when it came to plant taxonomy, never mind the medicinal traits that the demigod also expected him to learn. If he was interested in the subject, the piles of facts would have been more manageable. And, because he knew that Veloda really wanted him to be educated on this topic, he tried his best to become interested.

“Then, why do your eyes glaze over whenever I start teaching?”

“It’s not on purpose. I’m just not interested in plants.”

Veloda huffed and fell to sit down next to him. “I don’t know why. Severin loved plants. He wouldn’t shut up about them.”

“Perhaps,” he didn’t know where he found the courage to say this to the demigod’s face, “Severin and I are not the same.”

Veloda snorted, swinging an arm over Zaki’s shoulder. His hand fell on top of Zaki’s freckles, which he traced. Zaki recognized some of the constellations he drew. “But you are. I would recognize Severin’s soul anywhere. You’re him.”

“We may have the same soul, but we’re not the same person.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“No!” He rushed to reassure Veloda that he was not doubting the demigod’s wisdom. After all, Veloda’d lived for thousands of years. He barely had two decades. “I’m merely saying that Severin and I don’t have to have the same interests.”

“But these are the things that made Severin himself, and if you don’t have them, then you would only be an imposter.” Veloda’s eyes blazed with anger at the idea. “I’d rip out your tainted soul myself if that were the case. Banish the thought. I don’t want you confusing yourself.”

“Of course,” he softly said, “I wouldn’t want you to rip out my soul.”

Veloda drew Zaki into his lap. The hand rubbing his back should’ve been comforting, but he found no solace in it. He curled further into the demigod’s chest, telling himself not to cry. Veloda whispered into his hair, “Don’t be scared. I’d never hurt you, Severin.”

He knew better than to correct the demigod’s usage of Severin. Now was not the time. The demigod was all that he had, and Zaki didn’t want to lose him. He was scared because he knew that he wasn’t Severin, and he didn’t want to find out if Veloda would stay true to his words. But he was even more scared of the fact that without Severin, there would be no Zaki.