The Arcanum’s usual clatter of arms and yelled orders died off for dinner time. The sun no longer reached the training grounds among the tall walls. Varek walked slowly in the arched walkway by the grounds, his eyes jumping from one abandoned training staff to the next. He hadn’t seen Rin the whole day, which was unusual, given that Rin had a talent for finding him, whether it was necessary or not.  

As he walked towards the dining hall, a quiet sound stopped him mid-step. As he looked, he noticed a boy curled into himself – and sobbing.

It was the same boy he told Syraa earlier.

Varek licked his lips, hesitating, before changing course. He waited by the boy’s side for him to speak, but he didn’t look up. Varek wasn’t sure he even noticed him standing there.

At last, he sat by his side.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

The boy shuddered at the sound of his voice, and wiped his face with the back of his hand. His brown eyes were red-rimmed. He sniffed and nodded without a word.

“So why are you crying?” Varek pressed.

The boy swallowed hard. “I thought the Arcanum will be different. But people here hate me all the same.”

Varek’s chest tightened at the honesty. The boy looked far too young to carry such a heavy burden.

“What is your name?”

The boy looked behind him at the sound of a loud laughter – but there was nobody there.

“Tiinar, captain.”

“And where are you from, Tiinar?” Varek asked gently, trying to stop the sobbing.

“Nantitt, captain,” he answered.

Varek knew Nantitt by the name. It was a well-known town to the north with a busy trading port, an exceptional love for dried fish and very little warmth.  

“The Arcanum is tough,” he said at last. “The enforcers are tougher. It doesn’t mean people hate you.” He tried to keep his voice flat. His purpose was to stabilize him, not to care for him. Not to be friends.

“Captain, the moment you make a mistake, they ridicule you. But I could overlook that…” Tiinar”s voice broke mid-sentence. He swallowed again. “But they are also cruel. I don’t have a bit of skin which is not bruised.”

Varek frowned. He knew all the tactics of the enforcers to break the new recruits, especially the younger ones. He’d been through it himself.

“Even this, I don’t care,” Tiinar added, “but they do the same with my sister. Or the other girls. It is not right, captain.” His voice trembled slightly.

“Your sister is here as well?”

Tiinar nodded fast. “Yes sir, her name…”

The thud of quick steps interrupted him. He looked back as if he recognized the rhythm of the steps, his shoulders seemed to ease. A small-framed girl appeared. She had the same brown eyes and dark blonde hair as Tiinar. She must have been maybe a year or two older than her brother, but not more than sixteen.

“See captain,” Tiinar, went on, “this is my sister, Yeva.”

Yeva slowed as she approached, her boots scuffing against the stone. Her hair was tousled from the training earlier; her cheeks flushed from running, the rosy tint of her skin emphasizing her freckles. She looked between Tiinar and Varek, her expression shifting from concern to guarded curiosity.

“Tiinar,” she said, kneeling beside him. “You didn’t come to dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said simply.

Yeva licked her lips. Her eyes searched Varek’s for a moment, but he didn’t look at her.

“Captain? Did something happen?”

Varek shook his head. “I believe it is just the usual. Rough training.”

She moaned. “He doesn’t quite find his balance with weapons,” she explained to Varek, even though he didn’t ask. “If he got an axe, he’d pierce anyone’s head with it, or shoot an arrow from the back of a horse, and his aim will be true,” she added, “but small daggers and long spears are… not his thing. Yet.”

“Every weapon has a place here,” Varek said with an unintended edge. “I’d just be careful that you don’t become one.”

Varek pushed himself up and helped Tiinar to his feet, his hand firm on his shoulder. He led them to the dining hall, waited for them to get their meals, and sat with them. He knew how it felt to be lonely among these walls, and it was not something he wanted to put them through – not when they were already bruised, in more ways than one.

“Oy, Captain!” Someone yelled, and Varek rolled his eyes but couldn’t help a smile.

“Rin, do join,” he said, but Rin was already sitting before he could have finished his sentence.

“Training this morning was rough, wasn’t it,” he started as soon as he saw Tiinar’s long face. “Don’t you worry, you’re not alone. We had a practice with the water group. I nearly drowned.”

“You go swimming, and you complain?” Varek teased. Rin huffed. Yeva chuckled quietly, and even Tiinar’s lips curved into a small smile.

Varek watched the boy’s smile flicker, small but real. It wasn’t much, but maybe, for today, it was enough.