Takes place February 1st, after What Comes Next
Cahir--or whoever he was--disappeared. People much smarter than Julian had run tests, planned logistics, probabilities. With nothing to contribute, he'd just listened.
'We'll keep an eye on things' but 'it looks like this isn't going to be a problem'. It was reassuring, but inconclusive.
Julian didn't work well with 'maybe's, but he tried to be as optimistic as they seemed. He hoped they were right.
And if he still had doubts--well, that was his fault. He trusted the others, but sometimes his mind just got stuck in weird places.
And right now was still in one of those weird places.
He hadn't been sleeping well, and that wasn't helping. His dreams were strange and uncomfortable. Like many before, he couldn't remember what had happened in them, but he woke up feeling sore and exhausted and bad.
For the first time in a long time, Julian almost--almost--gave in and took something to help him sleep. Not the Benadryl, one of the bottles tucked in the back of his desk drawer. He'd been avoiding them for weeks, always worried that if he indulged, something bad would happen and he wouldn't be there to help.
If something happened, if someone needed him, and he was sleeping--
But the trouble was gone. Or, the worst of it. Everyone said so, even without--well, a body.
Julian didn't really want to think about that, so instead he fixated on the 'should I, shouldn't I' of sleeping, and stayed up even later. He was exhausted. His eyes bored into the ceiling with such intensity that the shadows started dancing in his peripheral, and when he blinked, it just burned.
In the end, he decided on no medicine. He'd probably just sleep in late, and then spend the rest of his day groggy and out of it. Julian didn't trust himself not to do or say something stupid, especially right now. He wasn't really in control of much, but he wanted to be in control of himself.
He didn't want Riker to see him so off--or Talia, or Zac, or Evan, all of whom had been supportive and caring and hovering just close enough that he was sure they'd see the cracks if he wasn't on top of smoothing them over. Julian wasn't very good at being fussed over, anyway. Even when it was coming from people who had never been anything but wonderful to him.
He wanted to be alone--but also, not, and that realization was doubly suffocating.
Julian wanted to go to Dering, and yet it also felt like dragging himself there. Cyril had been so patient with him the last few weeks--months--and Julian was desperate to settle into some sort of schedule.
He didn't feel like a better Knight at all. He still had so much to learn.
But, he made breakfast. He packed a small lunch. He dragged himself to the park, and powered up.
Teleporting to Dering usually felt like it took no energy at all, but today it felt like it drained him of everything he had. He'd been there for all of a second before he wanted to curl up and take a nap, but the universe--as it often did--had other plans.
It was raining on Dering when he arrived, which he hadn't really accounted for. It was a cold, dry day in Destiny City, and he'd left a little later than usual, so he was expecting Dering to be a bit brighter.
He was moving slowly today, so he noticed the darkness before the wetness, and was already a bit soaked by the time he pulled his umbrella from subspace. His body was doing that thing it did sometimes, where it felt like it was somewhere else, and not updating him quickly enough for him to understand what condition it was in. The delay wasn't catastrophic; he wasn't soaked. The water was cold, not icy, but chilly, and heavy.
Soleiyu prepared for this sort of thing, though. As with most of Soleiyu's gifts, this one had all the bells and whistles a Mauvain could reasonably concoct. He hadn't had much use for them before today, but he was all the more grateful for Soleiyu's foresight.
The umbrella was self-charging, with a flashlight installed at the bottom of the handle, a miniature heater in the shaft, and a set of microfans fixed to the ribs. It had other features, but Julian didn't need them so he didn't play with the settings.
He just appreciated the warmth, and the light. His teeth didn't even have a chance to start chattering, and he hugged the shaft close to his chest, tilting the umbrella just slightly to best block against the rain.
Where he arrived wasn't muddy, but wet. The tall grass held things in place, but the ground dipped where he walked. Lesser today than usual, the fog hung low and hugged the ground, but darkness and rain made it no easier to see.
Now that he was here, Julian wasn't sure where he meant to go. The clearing where he and Cyril usually met was empty, and the rain fell harder here with no canopy to redirect it.
So Julian stood alone, feeling strangely lost.
Out of habit, he made his way to his favorite resting place--a tree with large, arching roots, but water had already pooled in all of his favorite nooks. He placed a hand in the puddle, unsurprised to find his hand disappeared up to his wrist in the cool water.
He could see his hand, but he couldn't feel it. He pushed into the wood, hard, until he thought it should hurt, and then harder still when it didn't.
Cyril cleared his throat from nearby, and Julian jumped and turned quickly. "Sorry," Julian said quickly. He drew his hand to his chest, like that would undo...
Whatever he'd been doing.
Cyril hadn't figured out what he'd been doing, either. He looked from Julian's hand, to the puddle, the boy's dazed expression. It brought more questions than answers. "Have you been here long?"
"I don't think so."
"Hm. Well, you'll catch cold up here in this rain. Do you know how to start a fire?"
Julian meant to answer, but he couldn't bring the words to his tongue so he shook his head instead.
Unsurprised, but still unhappy to hear, Cyril nodded. "Well. Let's get you out of the rain, at least. Follow me."
He didn't wait to see what Julian would do, he just started walking. Not too fast, though the rain and tangle of wet grass did little to deter him. He moved slowly only to ensure Julian would, too. It was slippery, which while not a problem for him, could very easily become one for the Knight too-eager to please.
Julian was quiet as he trailed after Cyril. Even the soft crunch of his foot on grass was overshadowed by the patter of rain falling all around them.
Dering had no buildings, so shelter was hard to come by, unless you knew where to look.
Julian would not have thought to go underground to escape the rain, but Cyril led him to the entrance beneath the great tree, and stopped at the top of the steps. "Go slow," Cyril said firmly. "The rocks are smooth, I don't want you to fall."
He waited, watching how Julian took each step one at a time, and only when he'd reached the bottom and looked back up did Cyril descend as well.
Water fell in a constant stream down the stairs, so Julian expected some degree of flooding in the chamber below. He shifted where he stepped, and the ground squelched beneath him. He'd never seen grass this thirsty. It hadn't been growing here the first time he'd come down--or else his landing would have been quite a bit softer.
"What are you looking at?" Cyril asked, pausing before he moved past Julian.
"The grass."
Cyril looked at the green clumps on the ground, and then at Julian. "That's moss."
"Oh."
Cyril hovered for a moment, suspended in mid step. Gravity didn't affect him in the same way as it would a living person, but it felt strange to exist mid action, so he collected himself into a more dignified position.
Julian still hadn't moved.
Moss was not that interesting. Cyril would know. He'd had a thousand years to examine it, in all its forms. But if Julian was so fascinated by it--
No, that's not what this was. Julian's eyes were devoid of the passion, the curiosity, that manifested when he asked his questions. Cyril waited, and Julian did too, but it seemed like they were both outside of time.
Julian looked like he might have fallen asleep standing upright, with his eyes open. Cyril thought that must have been what happened, but he watched as Julian's thumb traced up and down the umbrella shaft in the same steady, coordinated path. He counted the seconds.
Thirty. Sixty. Ninety.
Julian still hadn't moved, so Cyril cleared his throat. "It's very absorbent. You'll find it often if you're exploring underground. It's resilient, and always thirsty. Good for bad weather."
"Oh," Julian said again. This time he nodded.
Cyril waited, and watched. Julian's eyes were glazed over and he blinked slowly, and then--a few seconds later, very quickly. He looked like he was just waking up from a dream, and clutched the umbrella handle tighter. "Sorry."
"For being interested in the moss?"
Julian looked between Cyril and the moss and back again. "Yes, sorry. You were going somewhere, I got distracted. It's very neat moss."
"...Yes," Cyril said slowly. "Very neat moss."
It was moss. Julian lived in the city but Cyril had, too. A different city, a different time. Dering was covered in moss. Maybe not the kind that coated underground tunnels like grass, but it wasn't at all as interesting as Julian would make it seem.
Cyril wasn't stupid. He took a few steps, listening for Julian's footsteps. They followed. Quiet, light. The hum of the umbrella was louder.
They walked in silence for a moment, down the long tunnel. The light from the umbrella was welcome, though Cyril would know this path in complete darkness.
Julian did, too. As they neared the hidden passage that led to the Code, he asked, "Where are we going?"
Cyril caught the nervousness in his voice. Julian was usually good at hiding it, but he was obviously having an off day.
"Don't worry," he reassured. "Just somewhere dry. Besides, I wanted to show you something."
"...The Code?" Julian spoke quietly, as if the hall demanded silence. Or, maybe he was just afraid he'd bother the Code of he spoke too loudly.
"No," Cyril said, not loud enough to miss the immediate sigh of relief from Julian. "Something easy. You don't spend a lot of time down here anymore."
"I'm sorry."
"That isn't a bad thing. I was just down here and noticed something I wanted to share." They walked for a moment in silence, and then Julian trotted forward to try and catch up. Something still felt off, but Julian wasn't offering the information, so Cyril had to ask.
He slowed, but Julian kept walking. If he'd had a body, they'd have collided.
"Julian," Cyril said, watching as he startled and spun to face him. "...What are you thinking about? It's not like you to be so distracted."
"I'm not distracted," Julian insisted, but it was a poor lie so he corrected, "I'm sorry. I'm just tired. I was thinking, a lot."
"About what?"
Julian didn't answer. Cyril might as well have asked him to explain advanced calculus.
"Julian," Cyril said again, evenly. "Are you feeling okay?"
The nod wasn't convincing, so Cyril raised a brow and asked, "Did something else happen? With that General you were having a hard time with?"
"No," Julian shook his head, and then his shoulders finally relaxed. "No," he said, more tired. More honest. "I mean, he's gone, I think. So I should be happy. Everyone should be safe now. So there isn't anything to worry about."
"But you're worrying," Cyril pressed.
Julian held his lute closer and shrugged, and then nodded. "Yes. I don't mean to. I just can't shut it off. It's like I was on high alert for so long that I just--I don't know. I probably sound silly. My body is supposed to know better, I really don't know what it's doing."
"Protecting you."
Julian's brows furrowed, but he kept pace with Cyril while they walked. Past the secret entrance to the Code--down a winding path he'd visited once, but it was a dead end, so he hadn't returned.
Cyril continued, "Was everyone okay? After the battle, I mean."
"Yes. I mean, there were injuries. But everyone is alive. And we were able to destroy his hideout. And we did something, some magic. The whole group--Brigade--and it was just a lot of power, and. I don't know, I'm sorry. I'm all over the place."
"So you've said. On a scale from one to ten, how overwhelmed do you feel?"
"Oh, I'm not--"
Cyril interrupted, "One to ten. Ten is the highest."
Julian swallowed. Shrugged. "Two?"
Cyril's eyes narrowed.
"Four?" Julian tried, and when that didn't make Cyril ease off, he wilted. "Eight. Nine. I'm sorry. I feel all buzzy. And I feel numb. And I'm tired."
This, Cyril accepted. He nodded. "Then why did you come?"
Julian shrugged. He didn't seem like he was going to answer, so Cyril pressed, "You don't have to show up if you aren't feeling well."
"I know," Julian mumbled. He tucked his shoulders inward and kept his head low as he walked. He could hide under the umbrella and use its warmth for an excuse. "I just...I've been doing a lot of that lately. Not showing up, I mean. I really wanted to be here."
"What were you looking forward to?" Cyril asked. They were still moving, a few slow steps at a time. The passageway was getting more narrow, but not enough that Julian couldn't fit through with the umbrella.
Julian peeked from underneath it to see him a little better. "Here?" he asked, and when Cyril nodded, he realized he didn't have an answer. "Seeing you," he suggested. Cyril scoffed but seemed more amused than upset, and since he seemed like he was still waiting for an answer, Julian continued, "It's calm here. It's peaceful. And quiet. And everything's just been so busy. It feels like...I don't know."
Cyril drew in a deep, hollow breath. He'd done it often enough that he'd almost convinced himself he'd feel it. Julian was so close to something honest, so he pressed gently, "Feels like what, Julian?"
When Julian exhaled, it sounded as good as Cyril wanted it to feel. "...Like I can breathe, I guess. It was a lot," he admitted. "What happened with the General. And everyone's--well, they're all carrying their own things. Everyone's worried about something. I don't want to make it worse. I'm okay, I just don't want them to think I'm not. I don't want to make it worse."
"Are you okay?" he asked, and before Julian could give an obliging 'yes', Cyril reworded, "What are you afraid you'll make worse?"
"I don't know. I feel dramatic," he mumbled.
"I don't think you have a dramatic bone in your body. Open this door for me," he said, stopping at the end of the passage, where a thick tangle of vines obscured the entrance. He could have walked through it--and had--but Julian had a body to worry about.
It took Julian a moment to find the recessed handle. The door slid on a track, a little stiff and rattly, but without much protest.
The darkness of the room was no different than that of the path behind him, but Cyril seemed unusually pleased with himself and gestured for Julian to enter.
Julian took small, slow steps, and very quickly realized why Cyril seemed so eager for him to be down here. The moment he entered the room, a faint glow gathered beneath his feet, and spread. It wasn't as cool down here as it was elsewhere, and Julian quickly realized it was because the pale white flowers--now glowing softly--seemed to make their own warmth, too. Long-petal lilies grew in an abundant field, and illuminated in a circle around him. When he took another step forward, the light spread.
"What is this?" he asked, sliding his hand along the bottom of the umbrella until he found the button to turn off the flashlight. He kept the heater and fan on, in part for the warmth, but mostly because of how strongly it carried the fragrance of the bloom.
"I told you, Dering is a magic forest. I haven't seen this since--" well, since he was alive, but Cyril knew whatever peace Julian found here was fragile, so he said, "Since long before you started visiting."
Julian nodded, carefully shuffling throughout the room. He didn't step on a single flower, and though they were low to the ground, they parted easily for him.
Cyril was less careful, but he had no weight to crush them.
But the flowers lit up for him, all the same--in a small, dim circle.
Julian noticed immediately. "Why are they doing this?"
"It's just the way they are."
"Is it a good thing?" he asked, finally closing his umbrella. It didn't feel chilly down here, and he was only slightly damp thanks to Soleiyu's additions.
"A very good thing," Cyril said, watching Julian closely. "I only ever saw this a few times. It's a good omen."
"Oh," Julian said, still shuffling around the room. The flowers illuminated his path, and stayed bright, until nearly the whole room was lit up. "Do you believe in that sort of thing?"
"Do you mean, am I superstitious? I am. I don't think you can be the protector of a magic forest and not believe in magic."
To this, Julian laughed, and nodded. It eased something in Cyril, and maybe something in Julian, too. "That's a good point. What happened the last time you saw them light up like this?"
Cyril hummed, and walked in slow circles around the room, over the patches of flowers that were still dull. His presence didn't do much, but the flowers were sensitive to movement, and energy. "The unicorns came back."
Julian tilted his head. "They left?"
"They do that sometimes, yes. I don't know where they go. Nobody does. I went to sleep one night and they were there, and woke up and they were gone. Which is a very bad omen. And not at all the first thing a new Knight wants to be greeted with. The forest is lonely without them. I think it loses some of its magic."
Julian shifted his weight a little, and made his way back to Cyril. "They left when you were a new Knight?"
"I'd been around for a few months. Not long. I wasn't good company, sulking about, stomping around. I didn't have much appreciation for the forest back then. I wanted to be somewhere more exciting."
The halls of a castle, or some busy hub full of diplomats and nobility and important people. He'd told Julian before. "Did you do anything to make them come back?"
"I did lots of things. I spoke to the Code. Made offerings at every shrine I could find. I played songs to call them back. Tended to their favorite plants."
Julian nodded. Cyril could see where he was going with it. Selfishly, he'd led Julian there.
But Dering was lifeless, except for the most resilient of plants--the grasses, the shrubs, the flowers, the moss. New trees hardly grew, and the old ones were giants already--many of them so heavy they'd toppled or split under their own weight.
Cyril had seen the forest in its prime. He'd seen the rot set in. The poison spread, not to every corner, but to enough of it.
What magic preserved it had stalled, like it took all of the forest's energy to spare it from the curse. It had little left to grow. To heal.
There was no new life here, not before Julian.
Cyril couldn't remember when the animals had disappeared, or if they'd left one by one or all together.
The forest was lonely without them.
Without the unicorns, without the rabbits, the birds, the butterflies.
Of course he wanted them back. For himself, who couldn't leave. Who had no company, except when Julian could come by. For the forest, slowly awakening from its centuries-long slumber. For Julian, who was working so hard to be a good Knight.
"What are their favorite plants?" Julian asked, predictably. Cyril knew he'd take the bait, he always did. But they both wanted the same thing, anyway--and whatever cloudy-mindedness Julian had arrived with seemed to give way to clarity when presented with purpose.
Julian wanted to be useful. Needed to be.
So this was good for both of them.
"Oh, there were a few. The roseberries are their favorite."
"...Raspberries?"
"Roseberries. Round, firm. They taste like candied rose petals. Significantly more comfortable to nibble on than the roses, they don't have thorns."
Julian nodded, but the words were still sinking in. "Are there any of those nearby?"
"I haven't seen them for a while. But you'd know if you did. They're brightly colored. Blues, pinks, purples. The trees have white bark, and pink veins. On the leaves, too. There are seeds, preserved. In some of the shrines."
"So we could grow some?"
Cyril nodded. "In time, yes. I think so."
"I'd like to try."
Of course he would. But Cyril was counting on that. Julian did not disappoint him, so he hummed pleasantly. "When it stops raining. It's dangerous enough already to get to the shrines, I don't want you slipping in mud and hurting yourself."
Julian nodded eagerly. He'd have gone now if Cyril let him, but his mind seemed made up.
"Do you have much skill growing things?" Cyril asked. Unsurprisingly, Julian shook his head.
"No, but I can read up on it when I get home. I'll get whatever we need. Are there more plants?"
"Many more. But I don't want you to spread yourself thin."
"I know," Julian said. "But I want to do more. I'd like to see unicorns. Um--well, anything, really. I hope the animals will come back. I want the forest to be healthy again. I don't want you to be lonely."
Something twitched in Cyril's chest. It felt like it should be his heart, or at least an echo of it.
Julian said it so sincerely. He asked for so little but wanted so much--not for himself, but for the things, and people, around him.
To be a better Knight--not for hubris, not for glory. To protect his friends. To help people. To heal the forest. He wanted the power to fix things he hadn't broken, and to leave the world better than he'd found it.
Cyril swallowed, glad that Julian was more captivated by the glowing flowers than he was in keeping eye contact.
He was more jaded than Julian. Had he ever been so idealistic? So hopeful? He didn't know where Julian got it from. Cyril had always been selfish--now, and in life. He was thinking about him. Thinking about Dering, and Julian, too, but himself most of all.
A part of him felt guilty for it, but who was getting hurt?
Julian was excited to have something to do. There was a light in his eyes that hadn't been there when he arrived in the rain. He was asking questions, making plans.
He'd brought his notebook, and lunch. He'd be here for a while. They could talk. Cyril could tell him stories. Julian could eat. Rest, hopefully. Catch up on the sleep he obviously wasn't getting.
...And no matter what came of this, unicorns or otherwise, Cyril was already a little less lonely.
