Hello Again [Rivin]

[Sivan]

Exael manifested first as a bright pinprick of blue-white light, expanding into something like a stellar nebula that pulsed in time with Sivan's heartbeat, which was elevated. Sivan too began to glow, a warmer gold shot through with blue, as if his spirit were being drawn out of his body so the two could join. Arms of energy reached out from each of them, entwining, braiding into a latticework of spiritual power.

Gradually, Exael drew closer to Sivan until he disappeared into the man's breast and the energy collapsed into the meditating elf.

There was a ripple in the fabric of reality and then a strange creature stepped out of Sivan and into their plane fully.

It was humanoid—sort of—or perhaps a sculpture of a human made of feathers, scales, marble, and metal. It had a diamond-shaped halo and its "feet" didn't quite brush the floor. It pulsed with power, then canted its head as if looking at Rivin, but it lacked eyes. Its face was half-formed, cresting like the petals of a flower, or some sort of abstract crown. Then it looked without eyes at its own limbs.

So this is what I look like now, it said, voice ringing in Rivin's becalmed mind as well as its bondmate, though Sivan felt more than just words—thoughts and feelings were shared.

The light faded for the most part, though there remained a faint glow coming from the Celestial. Its geometric halo faded as well, though perhaps it was a trick of the eyes—it almost seemed to exist, mostly translucent, as it moved its head. The first sign that Sivan had come out of his trance was a choked sob as his hands came up to cover his face.

Exael wobbled as it turned toward its aidolon, seeming as though it wasn't stable on its feet even though they weren't planted on terra firma.

[Rivin]

Something moved inside Rivin, and for a moment, hesitated. Then it felt, distinctly and strangely for where it came from, as though a part of the Lysanrin tossed up its hands and stormed out. After that, he was free to observe the proceedings without the odd pressure he often felt when taking his lessons with Sivan.

The creature that emerged from the elf was difficult to look at. Rivin's physical eyes squinted and shied, as though the being was bright on some spectrum he could not see, but which his instincts understood to be too much to see. The part of him that always wanted to know wanted to reach out a hand to see if the feathers and scales felt as warm and real as they looked, or if this was only a projection that allowed the aidolon to communicate.

The desire to explore shrank back and died when the Celestial turned its gaze his way, passed over him like a ghost; something he could almost feel on his skin. He did not shudder, or move at all. Like the rest of the creatures of the garden, the pale young man had gone utterly still. Even with lids lowered in respect and fear, he could see the aetheric afterimage of the creature as it moved.

It was the sound of a choked sob that brought him out of his own meditative state, and, in his confusion, for a moment, he thought it was his own crying. The last, and only, times he'd ever heard someone broken open with tears had been himself. In the disorientation left by the intensity of the magic, he felt such a strong connection to the elf, bowed weeping, that he wasn't sure they weren't the same person. Before his brain caught up his body moved, perhaps tangled, all unintentionally, in the dissipating remnants of bonding magic, wrapping the elf up in his arms.

Rather than pulling his intellect back around himself, cloak of protection, he let it stay in fluttering tatters and allowed himself just to be close to another being. It had been so long. It hurt, but pain felt right inside it. Huddling together, hurting, unable to be dignified or even think properly, it felt alright to be close.

[Sivan]

Later, Sivan would be embarrassed. For the moment, he turned into Rivin and clung to him, tears dampening the Lysanrin's shoulder. It didn't hurt—not exactly. He wasn't sad—not exactly.

If the Rune of Semblance had opened his senses to the aetheric underpinnings of creation, his new bond with a Celestial being opened his mind to a new level of understanding. He remained Sivan, but now he could share in the Spirit of Wisdom's cognition. Suddenly, he understood the Aetherium on a more fundamental level that he wouldn't be able to articulate soon, if ever. But he could imagine walking beside Torin as he journeyed. Perhaps he had been there with him? That didn't make sense.

The elf wept because he was too full and something had to seep out of him lest the pressure make him explode.

Exael hovered. There had been an instant where it had almost reached down to throw the creature that had welcomed a devil into its soul off of its aidolon, but it had learned new wisdom from Sivan as well—mercy, perspective, and biding one's time rather than making snap judgments. And so it floated there, realizing it didn't know how to comfort its beloved.

Eventually, Sivan's sobs quieted and there was a long moment where he waited, too embarrassed to pull away and see what might lay in Rivin's eyes. But he climbed him like a vine until their noses were a scant inch apart. Red-rimmed eyes were all the brighter for the tears.

"Thank you," he croaked. He cleared his throat. "Sorry."

The elf sat up, turned and stretched his legs out in front of him to Rivin's side rather than straddling him.

"It was just... a lot."

[Rivin]

Rivin's Summoning senses realized that the Celestial drew itself back to attack and didn't attempt to protect himself. Being struck would not be so bad, even if it did more damage than being tossed aside physically should. But the hand was stayed, and he did not question it.

Time didn't matter for a little while, and it was nice. Not a lot felt just nice, but holding Sivan as he clung and cried out the intensity of what he'd done felt cathartic for Riving too. He did little else than process his life logically, but he'd never been able to process through the majority of it emotionally. As open as the ritual had left him, Sivan could be his surrogate and relieve them both of some of it.

When the shaking and sounds subsided, Rivin didn't pull away, finding himself, even as his mind came back to him, reluctant to let go of what they were sharing. Having not shared something with someone as an equal before, his mind seemed almost as keen for the feeling as his heart. At the words, he just shook his head a tiny bit, for how close their faces were. He wanted to say 'thank you' back, he wanted to say 'sorry' back, but he wasn't sure how much he was still feeling what Sivan was feeling, and how much he meant both of his own accord. He did mean them, but didn't trust himself not to over or under emphasize them.

He adjusted back when the elf moved to relieve the pressure of his position, releasing his hands from where they touched with reluctance that he tried to hide with little success. The nod that was the reply to the enormity of what had happened was the same single, solemn movement as before. Rivin wanted to acknowledge what was being said with the level of importance that it held. He couldn't, it was far, far too much for a nod, but he tried.

After another moment he darted a glance at the corporeal Celestial and then said, quietly with a little break in his accented voice,

"Do you have need of anything?"

Unsure if the aidolon would be offended at anyone else offering his bonded aid so soon after the bonding, he waited to see how both sides of the new connection would react.

[Sivan]

Exael knelt, which was strange, as its knees didn't touch the ground. A hand, more human than most of it, reached out to rest on Sivan's shoulder, alabaster and gold. But parts of it shifted all the time. Now its head was mostly just a pair of wings reaching up from its jawline as it looked up through the branches of the Living Grave as if seeing the night with new—well, not eyes. It remained Other, even with its soul anchored in this realm through Sivan. The touch calmed Sivan somewhat, but all the same, he reached out a hand toward Rivin.

"I don't need for anything, no, but... would you stay a while? With me?"

Perhaps he needed an anchor in this world, as well, at least while he realigned himself to his new reality. Perhaps he just liked Rivin, who was doing a good job of pretending he hadn't spent a lot of time in this very garden.

"You could stay the night, even..." He was quick to clarify. "Just to sleep. If you wanted."

Sivan would understand if he declined to stay, declined to take his hand, but he needed someone and for whatever reason and despite Exael's warnings, he trusted Rivin. He didn't trust him completely, but enough to start a foundation they could build upon. The elf showed his trust and his vulnerability, hoping Rivin might eventually do the same. It was an intuitive thing rather than calculated. He was no great student of mortal nature.

But he hoped Rivin would at least take his hand. That he had been quick to succor Sivan at his moment of weakness boded well for him. A demon wouldn't do that. The Infernal wasn't entirely in control, and even if that eventuality was still possible, there was still hope.

There was still hope.

[Rivin]

The Lysanrin flinched when the Celestial moved down closer to the pair on the floor, he couldn't help it, but he didn't move away. When Sivan reached a hand out towards him, he took it in one of his own. The request required a moment of thought, but just a moment, before he nodded,

"I will stay." He hadn't spent the night in the house before, and while he had slept on the property, it hadn't been in any way that could be tracked. After a pause, he scooted back close enough that the elf could rest against him if he wished. "With you."

Rivin's ability to pretend he'd never been in the space before came from his ability to compartmentalize; the version of himself he inhabited at that moment had not spent time in the garden. Compartmentalizing his reality had been one of his main tools to protect his mind throughout his enslavement. He never let himself believe that that stage of his life was yet over, so he kept his tools sharp.

The phrase ' just to sleep' registered to Rivin as an assertion that he would not be required to do any work, so he shook his head, trying to imply that he wouldn't mind doing what small menial tasks as were required for the evening. He had no training in cooking, but he could start and tend a fire, and, if needed, go and purchase a meal for them.

"I will do what is needed." His voice was firm, but gentle. "I would like to do what is needed."

Taking care of what chores there might be would leave time for Sivan to... whatever he needed to do with the spirit he was now bonded to. A part of him felt jealous, of the obvious protective nature of the Celestial, of the connection between the two, the understanding and consent that flow between them. His own bond was complicated, not least because he hadn't consented to it. A part of him had, perhaps, but not in any way he had control over. The demon seemed to communicate almost exclusively with that other part of him, the one that only came out when his vision went red. It had only come out to speak to him directly a handful of times, and each had felt like a contest, or a trick rather than a compact. After today, he wanted to tell Sivan how he'd gotten his rune, how he'd gotten his aidolon, at least, as much as he knew of either. Perhaps the elf could give him more information than he had.

The idea that a stranger who hadn't been present could give him more information about the two most intimate moments of his life was a rueful one, but also hopeful. He stayed there, on the warm ground, until it seemed that Sivan might want to stand. Rivin stood, slowly, never fully breaking the contact of their touch, and helped his teacher to rise.

[Sivan]

"Thank you," he said, exhausted even though he was full of energy. It was a strange combination. He felt capable of anything, but all he really wanted to do was lay his head on Rivin's lap, let Exael lay atop him, and sleep for a week.

That was strange; normally, he only felt so comfortable around Torin and Destyn. Perhaps he would achieve that with Urs, as well, once the newness of things grew more customary.

The elf gave the Lysanrin's hand a gentle squeeze.

"There isn't anything that needs doing, really. I just..." He looked distant for a moment, trying to see how this realm intersected with the Aetherium. Between his Runes and his bond with Exael, he felt like he should be able to just... but no. That was not how it worked. His attention returned to Rivin. "The spirits and I have found an equilibrium. Once they learned what I proposed, they were only too happy to maintain things. I've tried to make this place a sanctuary for lost spirits, lost souls..."

Certainly Khal kept the garden comfortably warm. Sivan didn't let go of Rivin's hand as he laid down in the grass and moss. Exael moved aside, accommodating his movement and looking around the garden as if for the first time. It seemed to feel that no harm would come to its aidolon so long as it was present.

"Did you learn anything watching?" Sivan asked.

It was one way to teach—the asking of questions that allowed a student to work through something on their own.

[Rivin]

But it seemed that Sivan did not intend to rise, instead, to make his bed, for the time being, there in the grass and soft moss of the garden. The concept took Rivin a moment; he had spent nights out in the open on his journey to Kalzasi but they had been some of the least comfortable of his life. This place, though, it wasn't the frozen wilderness, and he had even fallen asleep in the trees a time or two before.

Settling into a comfortable position he let himself do as he remembered his mother doing; petting gently through the golden hair spread over his legs and beginning to hum quietly. The songs his mother had sung were not in a language he knew, but he remembered the words as sounds, and spoke them quietly into the warm air of the falling night. Maybe they wouldn't be comforting to the elf, as they held no memories of childhood for him, but they were all Rivin had.

The hand not occupied in attempting to soothe kept its hold on the hand that had been offered. Images of his own recovery from both receiving his rune and his unwitting bond made him suddenly a little jealous. No hand had soothed or comforted him, no one had cared, except in the abstract of experimentation, if he survived. Certainly, no one had cared how he felt or what he wanted. Even his mother had not given care to what Rivin wanted. The thought was bitter, but undirected. Sivan deserved none of it. There was no one to hate about it, but that did not lessen the emotion.

Swallowing it down to be used later was harder than it should have been. Freedom was softening his mental rigidity. The question, when it came, was welcome pulling him back into the darkened garden with its fireflies and sprites.

"Yes, I did." He was used to giving answers that were both precise and simple, but, in a moment he realized that it was alright to say more. "The runes and symbols, I will remember them, and I can see how they might be rearranged for other ritual summoning."

[Sivan]

"Good," he murmured, glad that his first foray into teaching the Lysanrin had been a success. "S'nice," he added when Rivin began to sing quietly again. Between Rivin and Exael, surrounded by spirit warded walls and canopied by the boughs of the Living Grave and the slumbering beehive, he drifted into slumber.

When Rivin stopped singing, Exael regarded him.

My aidolon is a good man, it stated plainly, eyeless. He has claimed you. He has decided you are worthy of protection, care, and education. I have chosen to accede to his wisdom. You need have no fear of me so long as you do him no harm. If your aidolon seeks his harm, I will protect him. I will try not to harm you, but his safety is my chief concern. It would behoove you to maintain control of your aidolon, that we need not quarrel. Do you comprehend me?

It might have sounded like a threat, but it was merely an explanation of the situation. The Celestial had only communicated some little with anyone other than Sivan in a long while. It had been diminished a great while before, and its bond with the elf was bringing back fragments of its memory. It too was overwhelmed, so it tried to control what it could control, bit by bit. That included this person who would be a part of its life on this plane so long as Sivan was teaching him.

[Rivin]

As Sivan drifted, Rivin considered entering a trace where he could memorize what he had learned and process what had happened. The voice of the aidolon was the last thing he expected and he started at its sound.

His first urge, a strong one, was to require to be told what 'claimed' meant in the context it was being used. Rivin would not be owned by another, not again, not if it meant his death. If Sivan had somehow bound him in service like he was a spirit with the runes and symbols he had not recognized... Ilex had decided he was worthy of protection, education, and care. Horror rose in his throat and he looked down at the sleeping elf, thoughts going to the small knife he kept on his person. The aidolon was fast, he would probably not succeed, and then he would not be seen as trustworthy, making freedom harder to attain.

His mind replayed for him the rest of the speech as he forced himself to calm from his fear. He had not felt anything, had not sensed anything. The most logical explanation was that the celestial's words were metaphorical. Rivin would watch, but, for the moment, it was not the best choice to attack. More than a minute passed before he said,

"I understand you."

He could not commit to controlling his own bonded spirit. He barely communicated with it. It was, surprisingly, comforting to know that, should his demon try to harm Sivan, the celestial would stop it. Seeing that the conversation, if it could be called such, was at an end, he did try to enter a meditative trance. If something outside his knowledge had happened during the bonding, the best he could do was memorize what he'd seen.