146Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: I know it's been quite a while since I updated. Happy New Year, everyone!
2019 was a busy year for me. I finally graduated! I have officially earned my Bachelor of Fine Arts in Media Arts & Animation. My focus is in illustration, and I'm on Instagram (pieranna_pfister), so drop by and take a look if you like!
This and the next few chapters have been slowly kicking my ass as I've tried to figure out the direction I wanted this to go, and how it would all happen. I've got portions of the next two chapters already written out, so I just have to connect them. Somehow. And properly edit them. So please have patience with me.
"Hope has two beautiful daughters: anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain that way."
-Anonymous
Public libraries were a wonder, Mithos decided. If the war ended—when the war ended, he reminded himself sternly—he would have to see about making it so half-elves implemented the system as well. Perhaps there could even be a system to exchange books between human libraries and the half-elven ones. Maybe—and this was the real long shot—elven libraries, with their centuries of preserved knowledge, could also be added.
Mithos studied with Yuan and Kratos at night, his fingers ink-stained from the printing presses. He pored over their books, asking dozens of questions, absorbing the answers they found like a sponge. The history was so new to him, and Kratos smiled fondly when he made an odd pinboard of newspaper articles with his own notes scrawled on spare bits of paper and in between the margins. Martel was the only one who could make some sense of it; the boys struggled to make heads or tails of the information.
"I'm thinking of writing articles," Mithos said one night, sitting cross-legged and looking at his research. "Treatises, that sort of thing. Protesting and presenting arguments against the war."
"Do you think that's safe? Radicals don't live long lives, statistically," Yuan pointed out.
"I can use a penname," Mithos said. "But I think it would help our cause to have these sorts of ideas on the back burner of people's minds, y'know?"
"It's not a bad idea." Kratos sat up, feeling the cricks in his back. He was too young for this.
"And most of the risk is gone if he uses a penname and no return address for the envelope." Martel was half-asleep on Yuan's chest, and her words came out slightly sleep-slurred. "We just enclose money for printing."
"It's another way to fight. Peacefully," Mithos said quietly. "I hate standing by and doing nothing while we try to achieve our goals."
"I know. We do too." Yuan ruffled Mithos' hair, making him squirm because he was still in that half-stage where he was too old for that sort of thing. "It's a solid idea, kid. Can't wait to read them."
All four of them took the test day off from working. They took the cable car out to the university. Martel couldn't hide her beaming face at Mithos' excitement. He looked his age for once, leaning his head out the window, eyes lit up. The stress was gone from his shoulders, the tension vanished from his bony fingers.
The Ciridian Tower that Alstan had written of loomed above them, and Mithos nearly fell backwards trying to take it all in. "It looks like it goes all the way to heaven," he said, pushing his hair out of his face.
Mithos and Martel hugged Kratos and Yuan, wishing them good luck before they were shown to the examination room. The siblings entertained themselves by exploring the small section of the university that was open to the public before making themselves comfortable under a tree. They made flower crowns for each other, the likes of which they hadn't made in nearly ten years. The crowns were lopsided and threatened to come undone at any moment, but it made them laugh.
Martel napped at one point, stretching out in the shade, while Mithos read. He had a little sketchbook for making notes about his ideas. He drew in it sometimes too, even if he wasn't a very good artist. He liked to draw patterns and he enjoyed the challenge of trying to capture the effortless symmetry of plants. Yuan's drawings—when he drew—were very geometric, all clean, boxy lines that were good at describing form and structure. 'Architectural' was the word Martel had used to describe her fiancee's style.
"It's practice," Martel had said when Mithos had explained to her his frustration at not only art, but at his inability to even approach Yuan's style. "If you look at the first few drawings compared to now, they've gotten so much better. And style is something unique; imitating is good for training your eye and hand, but don't depend on it."
So Mithos practiced drawing and it worked something like meditation. It was like sitting on the mountainside of Sylph's Temple, learning to listen to the wind. His mind could blank out and get lost in patterns, and shading, and observation.
It took hours for the examination to be over. Mithos was half dozing in Martel's lap when Kratos and Yuan approached. Martel smiled up at them, holding her place in her personal notebook with a pencil. It was nearly full, many of the pages used for her experiments in trying to find a cure for the crystallization.
"Hey, how'd it go?" she asked, gently nudging Mithos awake.
"Not gonna lie, the test was hard." Yuan sat cross-legged, cracking his back and stretching out his shoulders. He couldn't wait to get back to their flat; it was his turn on the mattress tonight. "But I felt pretty good about it, honestly."
"So did I," Kratos said, leaning on the tree. He'd been sitting for several hours. He really didn't want to keep sitting.
"How do you find out the results?"
"They mail them. They said they should be mailed out in a few weeks or so. If we have any questions or concerns, we can come back to this main office," Kratos recited in the perfectly mimicked bored tones of a test proctor.
"That's kind of annoying that it takes them so long to get those results," Mithos said, sitting up. Crease-marks from Martel's dress criss-crossed his face, and it helped take away from the dark circles beneath his eyes. None of them got much sleep these days.
Yuan shrugged. "Not a whole lot we can do about it. So. What do we wanna do with the rest of our day?"
"Find lunch," Mithos groaned.
"Good plan." Kratos looked around at the others. "You guys feeling anything?"
"Meat buns," Yuan said immediately, ducking his head a little when the other three turned towards him. "Halfway through that test, I just started craving them."
Martel laughed a little. "Meat buns sound great. Let's do it."
The sun was well past the horizon when Yuan and Martel left the dancing hall. Kratos and Mithos had left several hours ago, having early shifts at work the next day. A dancing hall wasn't quite their scene, but they'd had fun with it anyway. Once Kratos had gotten a few drinks in him, Martel had managed to drag him to the dance floor. He wasn't a good dancer, exactly, but his looks, and his easy laughter at his own mistakes made him a popular enough partner anyway. Mithos danced a few, but appointed himself the guardian of their little table.
On their way home, Martel took Yuan's hand, leaning in to him. "Today was fun," she said, swaying a little. Their Exspheres meant that they burned through alcohol quickly enough that the buzz didn't last longer than an hour or so. At least there were no hangovers.
"It was," Yuan agreed, swinging their hands. "It was a nice break from…everything."
Was this what a world of peace was? Nights out dancing, and easy days with friends? Why would anyone give that up?
He tugged harder at her hand, turning her into him and wrapping one arm around her waist. She smiled up at him. "Hi."
"Hello."
Martel cupped his jaw with her free hand. "You okay?"
Yuan smiled a little helplessly at the feel of her, at the cold press of her ring against his cheek. He was marrying her one day. How could anyone have gotten that lucky? Lucky enough to have days like today, where her cheeks were still flushed and her dyed-brown hair was frizzy from the humidity of the dance hall? He tugged her headscarf back into place, another layer of protection to hide her ears.
"Never better," he told her, catching her mouth in a kiss. She tasted sweet, like the fruit wine she'd been drinking.
Martel squealed against his lips when he lifted her against him, pulling them into a side alley. "Turning into an exhibitionist?" she laughed, every word a puff of warm hair against his chin, the bricks scraping gently across her back.
"You never know," Yuan said mildly, scratching his nails down her thigh beneath her skirt.
"You'll get us arrested," she hissed, batting his hand away.
He hummed noncommittally, but released her leg and took a step back. "There's worse things to be arrested for."
"I don't think Kratos would appreciate having to bail us out for something like this." Martel smoothed out her skirt, tugging the waistline back into place, trying to get her heart rate down.
Yuan smiled lopsidedly. "He'd probably make us sit in that cell overnight, just to be petty."
"No, he'd make you sit there overnight. He'd bail me out right away."
"You're right. Ugh, you've taken over my spot as his favorite."
Martel laughed, twining their arms together again, dropping a kiss on his shoulder. "It's all these good looks and charm."
Yuan snorted. "Yes, I'm sure you really worked him over with your womanly wiles. He didn't stand a chance."
They walked in silence for a while, ambling down the streets. Their appetite had returned with ferocity after drinking and dancing, and they bought some meat and vegetable skewers with the last of the change in their pockets. The sauce dribbled onto their fingers, and Martel giggled as Yuan tried to catch it with his tongue before it continued to fall. They play-fought with the skewers until they found a trash bin.
Martel splashed water at him when they went to wash their hands and faces in a fountain. In mock outrage, Yuan chased after her. Martel's laughter rang out behind her as she hiked her skirts up to stretch out her legs and really run. He chased her into a park and she dodged through the trees and leapt over bushes. It wasn't until she stumbled over some roots that Yuan managed to catch her around the waist, and they tumbled to the ground, curling into each other, their laughter too loud and boisterous for such a quiet night.
They collapsed onto their backs, their laughter tittering off and leaving them breathing hard, sides aching with the force of it.
Yuan reached down to take her left hand, bringing it up to kiss. Martel hummed in response, but her eyes were up on the stars and the leaves of the trees.
"I want more days like this," he said. "I want all the days to be like this one."
Martel rolled over enough to rest her chin on his shoulder, her eyes almost luminescent in the night. "We'll have them," she said. "We'll make it happen, and every day will be this extraordinary. For everyone. We'll have days where people can just be with their families and friends, where kids aren't afraid to go outside and play. Nights with dancing and drinking and fun. Nights by a fire, with full bellies, and all the stars. I can't wait to see those days."
"Days and nights worth living for," Yuan said, tilting his head back to rest against the grass. "I can't wait to see them with you."
It took two weeks for the test results to come in. Mithos had gotten the mail and went crashing through their front door, startling Yuan into dropping a book on his foot. Martel rushed out from the bathroom, her dress sodden as she'd thrown it on without drying off.
"What the hell, Mithos?" Yuan grumbled. Martel grabbed a towel now that she knew everyone was alright, wrapping it around herself as she took a seat on the floor beside the others.
"Your test results are in!" Mithos shoved the letters at them. "Go on, let's see."
Yuan and Kratos looked from the envelopes with their names and ranks printed neatly on the front to each other. "Same time," they agreed.
Mithos' fingers tapped impatiently on his knee as they read. "Well?"
"I'm in," Kratos breathed. "I passed."
Mithos nearly bowled him over, throwing his arms around him. "That's awesome, Kratos!" He scrambled to sit up, bouncy with energy. Today was a good day then; the magitechnology all over the city tended to leave him too tired to muster up such excitement. "What about you, Yuan?"
"Well. I passed the test in terms of scores. But they won't grant me a scholarship."
"What? Why?"
"They don't say, but it's political military bullshit. They don't like civilians trying to encroach on their territory, even if I work with them." Yuan reached out and grabbed Kratos in his own hug. "I'm so proud of you."
Kratos' face softened, his smile fading a bit. He knew how badly Yuan had wanted this. "I'm sorry, Yuan."
"Don't be. You deserve this too, and you worked hard for it."
He wasn't lying, but Kratos knew there was more going on. This wasn't the time for that, though.
"We have to celebrate, somehow." Martel leaned over to kiss Kratos' cheek, and then Yuan's. "What are you two in the mood for?"
"Kratos gets first pick," Yuan said. "We both might've passed, but he's the one that actually got in."
(The memory hits him like a train, of a Celsius Day so long ago. Of Yuan facing down bullies, and Kratos wading in after him. Of the massive cinnamon bun that they'd gone into town early for…the first proper sweet that they'd shared)
"…Think we could find a cinnamon bun?" Kratos said.
The smile began slowly, beginning in the middle of Yuan's lips until it rippled outwards, immeasurably fond. "There's a bakery I pass on my way to work. We can start looking there."
Kratos wasn't surprised to find Yuan on the roof that night. It had been an hour or two since Mithos and Martel had gone to bed. Kratos had given Yuan some time to himself, but it had been long enough that Kratos went up the rusty fire escape to find his best friend. He looked like a stranger, sometimes, even after all these months out here, with his hair dyed to be a darker version of Kratos' auburn. A forever-present headband kept his ears hidden, and all of that hair out of his face. His skin was a bit paler these days, with all the hours put in the hangars and warehouses instead of traveling under the sun. He wore long sleeves constantly, to hide the numbers on his arm, even in summer when the heat was killing him.
"Hey," Kratos said, sitting next to him, their feet dangling over the edge of the roof.
"Hey."
A beat, and then, "I'm sorry that it was me," Kratos said quietly. "The fact that you can't go to university because of stupid military politics is just bullshit."
Yuan smiled faintly; Kratos rarely cursed, and hearing him do it in his defense was nice. "It's okay."
He shouldn't have been surprised by Kratos' response, but even after all this time, Kratos was still good at surprising him. "No, it's not. You've earned this like twenty times over, and you would love it so much, but—"
"That's all true," Yuan agreed, his green eyes very bright in the moonlight. They, at least, had remained unchanged. "But those things are all true for you too. I'm happy for you—honestly, I am."
"So then why are you up here?" Kratos asked softly.
One shoulder lifted and fell in a shrug. "It's childish, but I just kind of needed to sulk about it a little."
"…Do you want me to go then?"
A thoughtful sound, then, "Not if you don't want to."
Kratos relaxed, leaning back on one palm. "Of course I want to stay."
They shared a silence for a long time, looking out at the city that had been their home for most of the last year. The electric lamps glowing through the night, the rumble of cable cars. Neighbors were playing dice outside, their children long ago in their beds. Ciridian Tower was little more than a red lamp higher than the other lamps at night, too far away for anything else.
"I just—" Yuan started suddenly. "It's university, y'know? To be honest, I never expected even the opportunity to get in one. Not on my merits. And then—I passed. I got a high enough score to get in. But because of money, because the military and their damned pride—all that knowledge up there…and I'm stuck here. Could you imagine? Someone like me, getting into one of the most prestigious universities."
"If you think I'm not going to find a way to sneak all of you in there, you really don't deserve to get in after all," Kratos said wryly.
"Asshole," Yuan laughed, and the sound eased the knot in Kratos' chest.
"And your merits were enough to get in. If we could find the money to pay for it, if it wasn't so damned expensive, you'd be up there right next to me."
"I can't wait to no longer be undercover." Yuan leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. "Can you imagine the mental gymnastics they're going to have to do to figure out how a half-elf passed their exams?"
"That's going to be beautiful to watch." Assuming they survived it all.
"This also frees me up to help Martel with her cure. I still won't have a ton of time, but—with the knowledge in that library, we have to be able to figure out something."
"When will you find time to sleep?"
Yuan waved a hand airily. "We have the rest of our lives to sleep, Kratos. Those books aren't going to read themselves and—you sly bastard, you cheered me up."
Kratos burst out laughing, the sound echoing down the street and over the rooftops. "Don't sound so surprised," he said, grinning wide. "I'd be a very poor best friend if I couldn't pull you out of your sulking."
Yuan grinned at him because Kratos was many things, but a poor best friend was never one.
