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sockablock · 4 years

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“Did you know,” said Caleb, setting down his quill, “that when gravity is dispersed, fire behaves differently?”

Essek glanced up from his reading.

“What?”

The two of them were seated in the library of the Xhorhouse, together for the first time since the peace talks. In the intervening months after the war’s end, Rosohna had been busy, the Mighty Nein away, and it was only yesterday that Jester had suddenly sung into Essek’s mind to tell him that they were back.

(He was reluctant to admit how quickly he’d perked up at the sound of her intrusive, yet undeniable cheer. He was even more embarrassed by how close he came to instantly teleporting to their tower.)

“It behaves oddly,” Caleb said, jolting him into the present. “It is strangely shaped, and its movement is different.”

“Really?” Essek set his book aside, as if that had ever been the object of his focus. “Could you elaborate?”

“I mean...ach, how best to describe this?” Caleb sat back and scratched his chin. “It spread from my fingertips quite slowly, and it expanded more than I thought it would. I tell you this, my friend, I nearly singed Caduceus’s fur, and he was more than fifty feet away from the impact.”

“Fascinating.” Academic interest rose to Essek’s rescue. “Was Caduceus alright? And how far—” he felt himself reach for a notebook, “—would you say the radius extended? You cast a Fireball, yes?”

“Yes,” Caleb sighed, “and the more accurate question, is where didn’t it go? It filled nearly every inch of the anti-gravity sphere. It only dispersed once it reached the edges.”

“Did it hurt anybody? You all came back safe...?”

“Fjord’s eyebrows have looked better,” he chuckled, “but thank you for your concern. We did, in the end.”

Essek finished scribbling into the margin of his notes. “I feel like I must apologize. I did not warn—I did not even anticipate that this could happen.”

“It was not as hot in the backlash,” Caleb titled his head, mid-memory. “Otherwise, it might have been a bit worse.”

“Worse,” Essek sighed. “Then my apology is needed.”

Caleb chuckled, and the candles of his study flickered as if caught in a spell. “No need. You said yourself, no? You did not know.”

“But I should have guessed,” Essek said. “I have spent enough days reversing gravity around my furniture to have tested fire. If only I could see...though I wish not to impose...”

Caleb’s eyes glittered, and Essek knew he understood.

They both stood up, pushed their chairs in, though Essek assumed that would not last very long. For safety’s sake, Caleb tided up the desk a little, then waved his hand to extinguish all the candles in the room.

“Your books, though—” Essek began.

“We have magic,” Caleb quipped. “Are you not the greatest Dunamantic prodigy of your time? Surely you will not make me clean up by yourself.”

Essek snorted. “I am not so rude a guest. But before I proceed, I must ask if you are certain.”

Caleb hesitated, but only just. His gaze softened.

“It will be only a small one. I am.”

“Very well, then. Here we go.” Without looking away, Essek reached into his pouch, found a vial of silver powder, and tossed a glittering handful to the sky.

They watched it rise in an arc.

And then, it did not fall. Instead it hung, suspended in the darkness as gravity stopped. It even shimmered, aglow with humming magic.

Essek reached up a hand and brushed his hair away from his face. The sleeves of his robe billowed, drifting with a current as if beneath waves.

An inkwell floated up behind him. He could sense the faint movement of every page in the library beginning to lift up, gently turn, but all he could look at was Caleb, before him.

The other man’s eyes crinkled up at the corners. His hair swayed like autumn boughs in a breeze.

His lip quirked up, and Essek coughed. “Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly, “shall I do it, or—”

“I can.” He grinned, and Essek did not look embarrassed when he added, “You should probably keep concentration, no?”

“Produce Flame is not a concentration spell, Widogast.”

Caleb chuckled in agreement. “Yes, but let me contribute something to this experiment.”

He cupped his hands out in front of him, halfway between his chest, halfway between Essek’s. He exhaled, voice breathing pure magic, and then a tiny glow bloomed in his palm.

It was blue, to Essek’s surprise. Bluish-purple, and shaped like a little dome.

“Goodness,” he breathed. “That’s...beautiful.”

Caleb floated a little bit closer, fingers still curled protectively around the fire. “Isn’t it? How strangely lovely, no?”

“I would not have guessed it could be like this,” Essek admitted. “I assume...I am guessing that the lack of gravity is affecting the heat, which is why it is so circular. As for the color, though...you are not doing this, are you?”

Caleb chuckled again. “Tamper with science? Have some faith.”

Essek rolled his eyes. In the darkness of the library, with only their bluish fire and the silver-powder stars, he decided he’d risk a smile too.

“In you? Certainly, I will try.”

Caleb held the flame up to open air. It glowed, light and shadow between his fingers.

“Your spell lasts an hour, yes?”

“Hm? Ah, yes, it does. Why?”

Caleb grinned, a simple gesture. “This is very different from the Fireball all that time ago. In fact, it is quite different from any fire I have seen in my life. It is...fire has always been complicated, you see. It is destruction and devastation, but also heat and life. This is the first time...this is the first time I have ever seen fire be nothing but...gentle. And soothing, and calm.”

He carried the fire to Essek’s hand. Not touching, but just close enough to be warm.

“I am glad,” Caleb murmured, “to be sharing this with you. To be able to share it if only an hour longer.”

The stars danced between their heads.

"Yes,” Essek said.

— — —

inspired by a lovely work of art from @odd-alchemist, particularly the quote at the bottom :3

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