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Oct 14, 2022

The Ceracurist (Chapter 6/?)

The boy grinned broadly, and offered his hand to shake. “Hi Rayla,” he said, cheerful. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Esarin.”

She took his hand and shook it, bemused. “No you’re not,” she said, fascinated despite herself.

(Chapter length: 8.5k. Ao3 link)

Warnings: References to hallucinogenic drug use, reference to a medical experiment that had unspecified bad outcomes.

---

Rayla wasn’t quite sure what to do for the whole birthday thing.

Gifts were traditional on humans’ birthdays; she’d looked it up to be certain. What to get, though, was harder to figure out. Callum was obviously wealthy and could probably buy most anything he wanted, and on top of that she’d not even known him that long, so it was kind of hard to think of anything anyway. She could make guesses – and truthfinding helped there – but it was still a pain.

She considered and dismissed the omnipresent and too-standard gift of a paperweight. She considered interesting magical trinkets, but had nothing interesting to spare from home and he’d been in Gullcrest considerably longer than she had. She considered art supplies, and finally thought that was probably the way to go. She’d have gone looking in the city, but:

In her drawers, forgotten these last few months, was a book. It had been packed in with the other meagre supplies she’d brought with her – a nice empty tome, its thick cover embossed with the looping silvery designs so typical to her kind, the paper within blank and pristine. She’d thought to use it as a journal of her experiences outside of home, but upon actually arriving had found herself to be no more prone to journalling than she’d been at any prior point in her life. She could’ve used it for note-taking, but it seemed too nice for that.

It would make a decent sketchbook, probably. And the style wasn’t one Callum was likely to find around here unless he specifically went looking for it. It would do.

Wednesday and Thursday passed without any sort of contact from Callum. She assumed his birthday was on one of the two, but having neglected to ask about the specific day, felt weird about sending a message about it. In the end she let it lie, and scolded herself for feeling bereft after only two days without talking to him.

She did talk to Ethari, though.

It wasn’t completely clear to her why she chose to call him. He always liked to be called, and she liked calling him, but that didn’t mean she did it that often without his prompting. Nonetheless, she called him, and felt a weird pang of relief at seeing his familiar face – and the familiar home behind him – materialise on the screen.

“Well now, this is a nice surprise,” he said warmly. “You don’t usually call this early. What’s the occasion?”

She shrugged uncomfortably. “Nothing in particular? Just calling. What’s going on at home?”

Ethari hummed, unconvinced, but obligingly settled into the usual rhythm of describing the days since her last calls. The progression of his projects, what Runaan was up to, the lamp-post an overzealous celebrant had knocked over during the recent Full Moon and only just now owned up to…

Rayla listened, and slowly settled, some tension she’d not realised was there easing away. The familiarity was as soothing as it ever was. The presence of Ethari, albeit distant, as well. He always seemed to know what to say, or to do.

…That was probably why she’d called, actually, wasn’t it.

“Enough about us, though,” he said, smoothly bringing his narration to a close. “What have you been up to, this week? I’ve not heard from you since Monday.”

Rayla averted her eyes, and fiddled conspicuously with her hair for a few long moments. “I…may have visited someone’s house,” she admitted, begrudgingly. “Two, actually. One on rest day, and then Tuesday.”

His eyes lit up, smile broadening. “You did make friends.”

There was hardly any denying it now, was there. Her gut squirmed, but not in an unpleasant way. “Yeah, I suppose,” she allowed. “Kind of seems that way.”

“The gaming society people?” He guessed, and she nodded. “Tell me about them.”

It was something of a relief, to actually talk about them all. For all that she’d been trying to keep quiet about her new forays into being sociable, just in case it didn’t work out, she did want to talk about things with Ethari. So she did.

She spoke about Kazi, first, describing them as a very sharp Sunfire elf who turned out to be one of the online Antiquitora players she’d been watching for years, and who had soundly bested her at their arranged game. Then the rest of the core group she’d met; Pava the technomantic tinkerer, Nihatasi the stereotypically-gregarious nomad, Kassa the kitchen overlord, Soren the bellator, and…well. Callum.

Rayla did make an effort to try not to single any of them out too much. She wasn’t sure how successful she was, but Ethari listened attentively regardless, making inquiries here and there. “We’ve arranged to meet up to spar next week,” Rayla said of Soren, and “Kazi wants to make Antiquitora matches a regular thing,” and “There’s actually a birthday party I’m going to tomorrow.”

His eyebrows went up. “Whose?”

She sighed. “Callum’s.” Reluctantly, she added “There’s probably going to be a lot of people. But, ugh.”

“But you’re going anyway,” Ethari surmised, and she nodded glumly.

“Well, I at least know some of them,” she said, trying for optimistic. “Hopefully it’ll be fine. If not I can always just go Moonshadow form and escape.”

His lips twitched. “Well, that should be easy for you, since we’re still in Waning Gibbous,” he commented. “Still, with luck it won’t be necessary. I’m a little surprised you agreed to go in the first place, though.” That last sentence was deliberately leading, and she made a face at him.

“…Yeah,” she said, noncommittally, and at his expression finally relented. “…He really wanted me to come.”

Ethari looked at her. Rayla looked back. There was a whole unspoken stand-off between her stubbornness and his unnaturally-sharp skill for social induction.

Rayla, who was coming to realise that she had called Ethari specifically to get advice about this, eventually managed to get herself to offer something useful. “We’ve been talking a lot,” she admitted, grumpily. “On Full Moon even. He’s…a friend.”

Her erstwhile guardian, who was more than capable of reading between the lines, considered this. “A friend,” he repeated, meaningfully. She scowled at him. “Rayla,” he said, not a little delightedly, “did you call for relationship advice?”

She could feel her face heat up, but there wasn’t much to do about that. She folded her arms. “You can’t tell Runaan about this.”

“Well, if you insist…” Ethari took a moment to glance around his workshop. The doors and windows were closed, and there was no sign of Runaan that Rayla could see. “I think we’re alright for now.” He looked at Rayla and waited patiently.

It still took her a while to actually say anything. She was distinctly not used to any of this. “He…likes me,” she finally said, biting off the end of every word. It felt so juvenile to say.

An eyebrow went up. “Did he tell you that?”

“No.” She averted her eyes. “I can just – you know.” She trusted him to make correct inferences about her truthfinding. But, then again…Callum wasn’t exactly subtle about it. She was pretty sure that all of his friends knew what was up.

“And how do you feel about it?” Ethari was so pragmatic about it, as if that wasn’t exactly what she’d been trying unsuccessfully to figure out on her own.

Rayla made a grumpy noise. “I don’t know. I’ve not even known him a week, all put together.”

“All a bit fast?” He sounded so sympathetic.

“Way too fast,” she agreed. “A week ago, I’d never even had friends, and now I’ve got six of them and one of them wants – ugh.”

“I can see how that would be…a little daunting,” he allowed.

“I hardly even know how to talk to them, you know?” She sighed, and stared up at the ceiling. “And now I’m supposed to figure out what to do about someone liking me. “

Ethari nodded. “Always happy to help you think through it, Rayla. If it would help.”

“Ugh,” she grunted, by way of response. “I don’t even know. It all just…kind of makes me want to disappear and just turn into an antisocial cave-elf who does nothing but train all day.”

His lips twitched. “Does it really?”

She sighed again. “…No, not really. A little bit. But not really.” Having actual friends was nerve-wracking in the worst way, but…already, she wouldn’t give it up. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to, if she didn’t do something stupid and bollocks it all up.

He hummed, and fell quiet for a long while to think; a good half-minute passed in silence. “It sounds like you should just keep on doing what you’re doing, Rayla,” he said at last.

She blinked, surprised, and looked up. “What?”

“Just keep building your friendships with these new people,” he said, like it was completely reasonable. “Including Callum. You can just focus on being friends with him for now, and disregard the rest. Figure out how you feel about him at your own pace.”

She made a face at him. “You make it sound so easy,” she muttered.

He smiled. “Well, maybe not. But it seems like you’re off to a good start with this group. You share a lot of interests, they seem like they want to include you…it’s a good start, Rayla. No need to worry about anything else for now.”

“You’re saying to just ignore that he-” She stopped, not quite able to say it a second time.

“Not necessarily, if you’d rather do something else.” Ethari shrugged. “But there’s no need to rush into anything, either. Just keep making friends, and I’m sure the rest of it will fall into place eventually.”

Rayla sighed. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” he insisted, very warmly. “I know you’ve been having a hard time alone out there, but I said you’d find your feet eventually, didn’t I? And here you are.”

“I’ve only known them for a week.”

“Here you are,” Ethari repeated determinedly. “I’m proud of you, Rayla.”

She assiduously pretended not to feel emotional at that. “…Thanks, Ethari. But seriously, I’ve only known them a week.”

“Let me know how the party goes,” he ordered, as if she’d never said anything.

She sighed again. “Yeah okay.” She searched for a good change of topic. “…Hey, did I tell you I found a computer game that works as truthfinding training?”

Ethari tilted his head, allowed himself to be diverted, and the conversation went on. In the end he hung up with promises to let Runaan know about both the truthfinding game and the sparring-amenable friend she’d made, and that was that.

Rayla wondered if it had helped at all. She felt a bit better, maybe, but…it hadn’t really answered any of her questions. She still didn’t really know what to do.

“Well, whatever,” she said aloud to herself, and went off to investigate some of her mostly-forgotten supplementary truthfinding material. It was not quite a coincidence that she picked out a document on various wound and disease patterns and the scars they left. The more she knew about how injuries and scar tissue worked, the better she’d be able to spot the signs of old injuries in someone, and…identify the origins of visible scars.

She reread it from the first page to the last. In the end, that didn’t answer any of her questions, either.

---

Rayla could tell that the party was uncomfortably busy even before she entered the house.

She had, in fact, been specifically trained to use truthfinding-augmented guesses to know approximately how many people were in a crowd or an interior space based on the voices and chatter alone. Judging by the sounds emanating from the various open windows, through which she could hear pretty much the whole house, there were…probably around forty people in there. Forty-three, if she had to guess at a precise number, and around fifteen more in the garden to the back of the house. There’d been considerably larger parties hosted in her wing before, but she’d never obligated herself to attend any of those.

A few elves were hanging out on the upstairs balcony and watched her as she approached; she didn’t recognise any of them. Rayla hurried faster to approach the door where they couldn’t see her.

There was a makeshift sign taped to the door; a single sheet of paper with RING THE DAMN BELL written on it, and an arrow pointing demonstratively rightwards. Rayla did as instructed, and ten or so seconds later the door was answered by Kassa. “Oh good, you’re here, Callum was starting to worry you might cancel without saying anything,” she said, stepping aside and waving her in. “I mean, he didn’t say it, but it’s not like you can’t see it all over his face anyway. Come in, come in.”

“Er,” Rayla said, eloquently, but went in. Kassa shut the door behind her and turned around.

“Okay, house party rules,” she said, without preamble. “Keep the chicanery to a dull roar, don’t break anything, bedrooms are off-limits to all guests, no canoodling anywhere else either, don’t get too shit-faced drunk, and no hallucinogenics because I don’t care if everyone does them back home, it’s illegal here. Also, Callum’s brother is here and he’s only fourteen, so behave. And yes I know you’re not exactly the type to need these rules, but whatever, it’s the rules and now you know them. Also there’s a communal bath going on in the main bathroom, don’t go in there unless you’re okay with Skywing-typical nudity. Good? Good. Let’s go find Callum.”

Her first thought was, hallucinogenics are illegal? She opened her mouth to question it, incredulous and vaguely offended, but Kassa was already moving. Feeling vaguely overwhelmed, Rayla followed.

The hallways were lightly occupied, the kitchen was occupied, the stairs were occupied, and the living room was thoroughly occupied. The conversation pit was crammed with elves, the table laden with drinks and various bowls of snacks, and clusters of people were off chatting in every available corner. A small legion of folding chairs had been assembled along various walls, and were being put to extensive use. A few people looked wet-haired and generally damp in ways she knew signified a recent exit from the communal bath, which…she’d mostly gotten over the culture shock of that months ago, but it was still weird to live in a city where taking a bath in a big group was a normal thing to do at a social gathering.

Of all those people, she barely knew any. It was more than slightly daunting. There were a few, though. Kassa, obviously. She spotted Pava in a group of elves she recognised from the magical engineering building, his hoverchair dipping back and forth with the force of exactly how emphatically he was gesticulating, arguing some point about…honestly, she didn’t even know. It all sounded like Archaean to her. He was another face she knew, at any rate. And – there – talking to what looked like another couple newly-arrived guests, was Callum.

He was wearing considerably fancier clothes than she’d seen him in before; standard Skywing-style attire as he often wore, but this time it was the sort of thing you tended to see mages wearing at formal occasions, though the colours were a little odd. The blues were standard, but the red interior lining? The gold embroidery? It suited him, but it was a bit weird. It also reminded her of something she couldn’t quite place, which…itched in the back of her mind like an unearthed secret. Of course.

Steadfastly ignoring both whatever was setting off her truthfinding and the fact that those mage clothes really suited him, Rayla silently followed Kassa over, arriving just as the others were leaving. Callum was peering into the gift bag the guests had left him.

“Anything good?” Kassa asked, by way of greeting.

“Another paperweight,” Callum said, resigned, and put the bag down under the little decorative end table. “I guess I shouldn’t complain, but…”

“No, no, you should definitely complain, those things are really starting to clog up the place.” Kassa snorted. “Invite more Earthblood guests next time, they bring plants. Plants are way better.”

“They also bring rocks, so-” Callum started, and then finally looked up. “-Rayla? When did you get here?”

Somewhat predictably, his face lit up at the sight of her. She tried not to flush. “Just now,” she said, and thrust her own gift bag at him in some futile attempt to dispel her awkwardness. “Here. It’s not much, but it’s not a paperweight, at least.” Her voice was a little dry.

Unashamedly nosy, Kassa crowded over to stare into the bag. “Seems promising.”

“Thank you!” Callum said, already brightening at the sight of the book. He withdrew it and oohed appreciatively at the designs on the cover, then flipped it open and found it empty: promptly, his expression turned elated. “Moonshadow sketchbook?” He asked, delighted.

“Oho, you got him art stuff,” Kassa said, approvingly. “Very good.”

Rayla shrugged, embarrassed. “Figured you could probably find a use for an empty book, even if you already had enough sketchbooks.” After a moment, she added “Happy birthday.”

“There are never enough sketchbooks,” he claimed fervently, and turned to put the book in a place of honour on top of the table…along with what looked like a variety of paints, paintbrushes, assortments of fancy charcoal, and more such things. It was all art supplies. She eyed the pile, appraising. If these were his preferred sort of gift, she’d have to keep it in mind for later. A book was fine for someone she’d known for all of a week, but, well. “Thank you. And – thanks for coming, by the way, I know it was kind of short notice.”

She averted her eyes, just a little, embarrassed by how he was beaming at her. “It’s…fine.”

Kassa looked between them knowingly. “Well, I’ve got to go check on things in the kitchen,” she said, amused. “Have fun playing host, Callum. Introduce her to people, she hardly knows anyone, it’s downright shameful.”

His eyes lit up. “I’ve got to introduce you to my brother!” He declared, and was reaching out for her hand in a second. He seemed to think nothing of tugging on her fingers to lead her across the room, all the while Rayla was struck instantly silent by the contact. She tried desperately to remember Ethari’s recommendations to just be friends and not worry about anything else, but was a little too distracted by the gentle brush of his half-finger gloves on the back of her hand.

“Sounds good,” she managed, and allowed herself to be led over to a small group close to the windows. Soren was there, and it took only a glance to see that he was still wearing concealed armour, and to see the not-quite-casual way he was watching the party; standing, despite the chairs near at hand. Still on duty, then. And beside him…

“Rayla, I want you to meet my brother,” he said, beaming, dropping her hand and stopping in front of the only other human she’d spotted here. At first glance he barely resembled Callum at all, but she could pick out the similarities as she’d been trained to. She thought they probably only shared one parent by blood, but they were certainly related.

The boy stood up, a smile spreading on his face, and for a moment, they mutually inspected each other. He looked to be in his mid-teens, in an awkward stage of growth that suggested he’d grow very tall soon, but hadn’t quite gotten around to it yet. Instead he seemed caught half-way between stocky and gangly, and bizarrely well-poised despite it all. His bushy hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he was wearing similar colours to Callum, albeit less mage-y. The blues looked weird on him, somehow.

Then, apparently done with his inspection, the boy grinned broadly, and offered his hand to shake. “Hi Rayla,” he said, cheerful. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Esarin.”

She took his hand and shook it, bemused. She glanced around, and determined that no one other than Callum or Soren was paying attention to their conversation. “No you’re not,” she said, fascinated despite herself. He was a good liar, unlike Callum. The way he’d said that name…

Rather than look bothered, he just grinned wider. “You sure about that?”

“Pretty sure.” She let go of his hand. It was such an interesting lie. It felt familiar, comfortable – like something old and practiced, a pseudonym he’d used often enough that it did feel a little like his own. And, something in the taste of it… “I think it’s probably a bit like your name, though.”

He looked delighted. Beside him, Callum seemed half-way between sheepish and pleased. He said to his brother, sounding oddly smug, “I did tell you.”

“Yeah, you did. A real truthfinder, huh, that’s really cool.” He withdrew his hand and smiled secretively at her. “Okay, Rayla, you can call me Ez. How’s that?”

She tilted her head. “Fine by me,” she agreed, after a moment. She glanced at Soren. “On-duty?”

He tipped a hand back and forth. “Kinda. Ish.”

After that, she was at a loss of what to say which wouldn’t potentially count as digging for clues. She looked at this boy and everything was a lie waiting to happen. He probably almost never even wore blue; actually, looking at him, Rayla was relatively certain he was wearing it on purpose so he wouldn’t look as much like his usual self. He wasn’t wearing any illusions, she could spot those easily these days, which meant he didn’t consider his appearance well-known enough to actively conceal, but he did expect that people might be able to recognise him under the right circumstances anyway…

She rubbed her forehead, and intentionally truncated the line of thought. She could feel her magic straining along the edge of not-enough-information, and it would give her a headache if she left it. She glanced out of the window to distract herself, then did a double-take. She looked again.

“Something wrong?” Callum asked, face falling a little.

Rayla narrowed her eyes at the road outside the house, peering closely. “Are the people hiding under illusions by the trees over there supposed to be there, or…?” Her shoulders stiffened, reflexively alert.

All three of them blinked, but not like they were alarmed. “…They’re supposed to be invisible,” Callum said, baffled. “It’s moonstone enchantment. How…?”

She heard the implications, and relaxed again. “So they are supposed to be there.” Rayla nodded, satisfied. Just more guards, then. Probably here because of…’Esarin’.

“I hadn’t heard that Moonshadow elves could see through illusions like that,” Ez commented, looking intrigued.

Soren had narrowed his eyes. “Me neither,” he said, slow. “Can most of you do that?”

She shrugged, evasive. “There’s kind of a trick to it,” she said, and didn’t mention that she’d not been able to do it until she’d had a moonshine epiphany during last year’s Blood Moon. “I’m not the only one, but…”

“Is it related to your truthfinding?” Callum asked, clearly fascinated on a much more academic level than Soren was. She wasn’t completely sure what Soren’s deal was, but-

She glanced at him, blinked, and re-evaluated. Oh, right. Soren thought it was a security hole, and wanted to know how concerned he should be. She hesitated, and said “Not…directly?” She didn’t really know how to explain it. “I – you probably don’t have to worry about many Moonshadow elves seeing through your illusions, though.”

“So it’s actually super rare, is what you’re saying?” Soren asked, and took it as confirmation when she crossed her arms. “Good. That’s good.”

“Sounds useful,” Ez commented. “You’re a bellator, right? I bet that comes in handy.”

“Only when there’s illusionists on the other team,” she said, amused. “So far I’ve not fought any. But, yeah.”

“Are you planning on being a career bellator?” Soren looked contemplative. “You’re good enough, you know. I’ve not seen anyone in the professional games do what you do.”

Rayla thought, dryly, that there was a reason for that. Moonshadow elves with the skills she had did not advertise them in the limelight of professional Games; being a covert specialist who everyone in Xadia could identify was not great for one’s career. Unless you really did just want to be a professional bellator, she supposed. “No, I mostly just do Honour Games to keep up my combat training,” she admitted. “It was the best thing I could find. And it’s pretty fun, so.”

“That’s basically why Soren does it, too.” Callum looked contemplative. “You…said you were studying Professional Security, right? What…I mean, why…?”

She recalled, abruptly, that Soren was on the same course as her. Albeit part time, which made sense now: he was juggling a bodyguarding schedule on top of everything else. It wasn’t a bad cover, either – career bellators didn’t have a lot of choices of university degree that would teach them anything useful for the Honour Games, but Professional Security and Tactics was one of them. Most anyone who saw Soren being so active at his bellatorium would make the obvious assumption that he was planning on it as a career.

She wondered who guarded Callum when Soren was studying, or at the bellatorium. Would it be weird to ask?

Belatedly, she realised she was being asked a question. “Because I want to go into professional security?” She answered, automatically, not quite thinking about it. Seriously, though, if Callum warranted a bodyguard, shouldn’t he also warrant full-time bodyguarding? You needed more than one person for a full security detail, especially if you wanted someone alert and awake during the night shift… “I’d settle for counter-espionage, mind you.”

“But, if you could have what you wanted…?” Ez prompted, leadingly. She glanced at him, and found that all three of them were watching her with a distinct and thoughtful interest.

It occurred to Rayla, for the first time, that she was talking about pursuing a professional security career while in the company of an actual bodyguard and two people who had bodyguards. Abruptly embarrassed, she cleared her throat. “Er. Well.” She shrugged, attempting to be normal about it. “High profile security? Which is to say..."

"Bodyguarding," Callum supplied, a little ruefully, like he recognised the irony. Ez looked positively gleeful.

“Or dedicated security detail in general. But…yeah.” Rayla sighed, decided she might as well stop pretending she wasn’t talking to who she was talking to, and lifted an eyebrow in Soren’s direction. “Don’t suppose you know anyone hiring?”

That cracked a smile out of him. “Yeah, I might know a few people,” he allowed.

“’A few’,” Ez repeated, like he thought it was the height of hilarity.

Callum was shaking his head. “What are the chances,” he muttered, and Rayla steadfastly did not interpret the wistful expression on his face.

“I dunno, but it’s pretty funny,” Ez said cheerfully, then elbowed Soren and Callum in turn. “C’mon, let’s go around and talk to people. I’m bored.”

“What, you’re not tired of people telling you how much you’ve grown yet?” Callum asked dryly, but obligingly went along. He reached out and tugged automatically on Rayla’s sleeve, clearly expecting her to come along, so…well, she did.

She trailed awkwardly behind them as they made their rounds of the party, being introduced to people here and there. The Sunfire receptionist from the horn salon, who – mortifyingly enough – did recognise her. Another person from the salon, apparently Callum’s boss, who was an Earthblood elf with pretty magnificent antlers and a bearing that made her know for certain that he had extensive combat training. A handful of game society absentees who didn’t show up to the meetings very often. Some of Soren’s bellator teammates, who were particularly interested at the introduction.

“Wow, I did not expect to meet Stabby Moonshadow Girl here,” said one of them, who Rayla recognised as a deft hand with a crossbow. “Did Soren finally manage to track you down for sparring, or what?”

“Nah, she just showed up at one of the game society meetings and made friends with Callum,” Soren answered easily in her place. “She’s gonna come out to drinks with us after next cross-training, though.”

“Oh, am I?” Rayla asked archly, and he grinned at her.

“This Sunday,” he promised. “After the game ends. We’ve got a favourite bar, dunno what kind of drinks Moonshadow elves like but they’ve probably got something.”

She thought again of Kassa’s assertion that hallucinogenics were illegal, and shook her head. “I’m not making any promises,” she warned, quelling her instinctive discomfort at the idea of it. As far as friends went, other bellators were good candidates, and she did feel kind of bad about accidentally snubbing Soren’s overtures of friendship all this time. But she’d never gone out drinking with anyone before in a social situation like that, and wasn’t entirely sure what she thought of it. “But…we’ll see.”

“Good enough,” Soren said, and the introductions circuit went on.

Rayla was entirely certain she wouldn’t remember most of the names, especially after the chaos that came once Kassa finally emerged from the kitchen to announce that food was available, causing what seemed like the entire house to crowd in there at once. She had the advantage of accompanying the birthday boy, so along with Callum and Ez and Soren she managed to get in and successfully escape with a plate before the ruckus progressed any further, and without further ado they all proceeded outside to grab some chairs and eat at one of the many folding tables assembled in the garden.

She hadn’t actually seen the garden on her visit before, but noted the presence of several night-blooming flowers that glowed in their beds and felt a little more at home. She liked being surrounded by greenery, and there were even a few trees at the end, near the fence…

She blinked, and squinted. Yep, those were definitely more illusioned figures. In the trees.

“I’m guessing those are supposed to be there, too?” She asked Soren lowly, just to check, and he followed her gaze to the trees and grinned.

“Yeah, all good.”

Rayla considered this. The shapes of the hidden guards, from what she could see, did not look especially settled or comfortable in those branches. “Hope they don’t fall out of there,” she muttered, prompting a round of snickering from the boys.

“It’s not exactly what they’re trained for, but we didn’t want anyone bumping into them, so.” Callum shrugged, trying and failing to hide his amusement.

A few people came by while they ate, largely new arrivals who needed to do the customary ‘happy birthday, here’s your gift’ routine. None stayed. At least, not until a new voice sounded behind them, sending a strange shock of recognition down Rayla’s spine. “Evening, all of you,” greeted the newcomer, and they all turned to look. “And…happy birthday, Callum. I’ll give you your gift later, if that’s alright?”

Callum’s eyes had lit up. “Evairas!” he exclaimed, delighted, and rose just enough to usher the new elf into one of the spare chairs. “I’m really glad you could make it. How’s everything going?”

“Hideously busy, as usual,” said ‘Evairas’, and sat gracefully as prompted. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the game night, but, well. You know how it goes. And…” Finally, his eyes met hers. “You must be Rayla.”

She stared, struck by the sight of him. He was a Moonshadow elf, one of the rare few she’d met in the city, and maybe a few years older than Soren. Pale skin, white hair, amber eyes. She’d never met him before in her life, nor heard his voice, and yet…

Her magic stirred in her, strangely intense, ringing with recognition. It was something she’d never experienced outside of a temple before.

“You’re a truthfinder,” she said in the end, completely astonished, and watched the boys all react in her periphery. Clearly, they’d not known about that. “But – but you’re not…”

Evairas looked surprised for a moment, then understanding flashed across his eyes. “You’re a truthfinder, then? I’d not heard that.”

Rayla couldn’t quite look away. The recognition of like-to-like was all the more potent when she’d not been expecting it. “Can’t you feel it?”

A smile twisted his lips, a little self-deprecating, and the answer to her question rang out across the magic with shocking clarity. She knew the state of things before he even spoke. “I can’t, I’m afraid. I never trained my talent, so it’s all very much latent for me.”

That didn’t make any sense at all. Truthfinders were so rare, and so insanely useful, that the idea of one going unnoticed, untrained…she could hardly fathom it. Had he grown up outside of Moonshadow society? It was the only thing that could possibly explain it, surely. With effort, she tore her eyes away, pushing the thrum of magic away. “Bloody Moon, I never expected to meet another one out here,” she said, instead of asking any invasive questions. And, with both of them being truthfinders, anything she asked would be invasive. He didn’t even have the training to make it reciprocal. It was so strange.

“You never told me,” Callum said to him then, sounding very slightly hurt. “Was there – I mean-“

“I didn’t actually find out I had the talent until after…well, after I came to Katolis.” A wealth of meaning, in there. It meant something to him; something to Callum, too. Rayla looked at him and saw: an impression of pain, an impression of infirmity, a history stretching between the two of them woven thickly with old scars. When they’d met, both of them had been wounded, though in very different ways.

Rayla looked away, shaken. “Bloody Moon,” she uttered again, determinedly not looking at him. She’d never come within range of a Priest of the Light or the Shadow since being trained. She hadn’t known what it would feel like to be a truthfinder in the presence of another.

Evairas was looking at her. She could tell, even though she didn’t look back. “I’m sorry, Rayla. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She shook her head, unwillingly, aware of how they were all watching. “It’s not – don’t you know? You’re a truthfinder. I’m trained. I can practically read your mind.” She exhaled, then added “You’d better come over and sit next to me, if you’re staying. That way maybe I won’t see your life story every time I look at you.”

A few glances were exchanged around her, and Ez switched places with Evairas. “Scion of Shadow didn’t mention that,” Callum said, a little bemused, when they’d relocated. “So, what, if a trained truthfinder meets another one…?”

“It strengthens the effect greatly, or so I’ve been told,” Evairas offered from beside her. With him only in her peripheral vision, the effect was a lot less pronounced. She could almost ignore the input from him like she ignored Callum’s secrets. “Forms almost a sympathetic connection, though in my case, it’s one-way. Since I’ve not got the training.”

“There’s supposed to be a way to shut it out,” Rayla muttered, vaguely frustrated. Something new to look up in her coursework, she supposed. “Never learned it, though. What were the chances of meeting another one out here?”

“Very low, I’d imagine.” The other elf sounded amused.

“So what, did you see his whole life story when you looked at him?” Ez asked, curious. “I feel like you’d have reacted more if you’d seen his whole life story.”

“Ugh,” Rayla said, at the implications, and “No, I didn’t. Just some – impressions. Before I looked away.” They all looked interested, and in Soren’s case sharp-eyed in a security-conscious way, so she checked around carefully for eavesdroppers before answering. The garden was filling up, but no one seemed to be paying attention. “…I know that Callum and…Evairas…were both in pretty bad health when they met, in Katolis. Not in the same way as each other, but.” She shrugged. “That’s about it, though.”

“And, what, if he was a trained truthfinder like you, he’d be seeing that sort of stuff when he looked at you?” Soren asked, while Callum and Ez went very quiet.

“Yeah, probably.” Rayla nodded, and didn’t look at Evairas. Didn’t ask why he wasn’t trained, though she desperately wanted to. Who’d pass up a skill like this? Being a truthfinder – that talent could get you anywhere. She wasn’t oblivious to how many doors it had opened for her already.

Soren patted her on the arm. “Better get on learning that blocking-it-out thing. Sounds like a security problem waiting to happen.”

“I’m not sure you understand how rare truthfinders are,” Rayla told him, but sighed. “You’re not wrong, though.”

Through silent, mutual acknowledgement, the conversation shifted in more innocuous directions once the surrounding tables had really started to fill up. With every one of their group being outsiders in Gullcrest, and all but Ez being residents, it probably wasn’t surprising that they ended up on the topic of culture shock.

“I think it was the baths that I found weirdest, maybe,” Callum mused, when asked what he’d found strangest to adapt to. “I mean, I was living with Kassa’s family when I first came here, right? And Kassa’s mum is one of the thaumatology professors, so she was always having colleagues around for tea and group baths. Kassa brought friends over too. And they all kept inviting me. It was super weird.”

“Did you ever take them up on it?” Rayla asked, lips twitching.

“Eventually? Yes,” Callum admitted, ruefully. “But only once they said I could wear underpants. And, even then...” Absently, he rubbed at his wrist. Rayla couldn’t help but remember the lines of scarring there, hidden beneath his sleeve. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be like the locals about it. With some close friends, yeah, maybe, but…”

“I’ve not spent much time in Skywing cities, but I doubt it’ll ever be for me,” Evairas offered, shrugging. “I might not have grown up in a traditional Moonshadow context, but, well. Our sort tend to be quite body-shy, as far as races of elves go.” He cast some sort of look at Soren, though Rayla was still carefully not looking at him, so couldn’t see it. “Unlike Soren, here.” That sounded amused.

“Shameless, that’s me,” Soren agreed, shovelling a forkful of some sort of pie into his mouth. Around his food, he said “’ve got a great bod. Be sad not to show it off, when everyone here’s having friendly baths all the time.”

The other Moonshadow elf laughed good-naturedly. “I admire your confidence. Still. Not for me.”

“What about you?” Callum asked, and it took Rayla a second to notice the question was directed at her.

For a second, she paused. She knew what he meant. She couldn’t resist it, though. “I don’t have any plans to show my ‘bod’ off,” she said dryly, making air-quotes and watching as Callum narrowly avoided choking on his drink. “No matter how great it is. Soren and all the locals can keep the baths; not my thing.”

Callum turned bright red as the rest of them snickered at him. “I didn’t mean the baths,” he protested, flustered. “I meant – the culture shock. What was weirdest for you. That’s what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know.” Rayla flashed a grin at him in all good humour, and couldn’t quite help enjoying his reaction. She’d never really had friends to tease before. Then she paused to actually think about the question. “…Before today, honestly, I’d have maybe said the communal baths were the weirdest thing for me, too,” she said finally. “Now, though…”

They all looked interested at that. “What’s weirder than group bathing that you found today?” Ez wondered.

Ever-so-slightly, Rayla turned Evairas’ direction, just enough to indicate she was speaking to him. “Something Kassa said, when she let me in. Are hallucinogenics really illegal here?” She didn’t bother trying to hide her disbelief. As spiritual as she wasn’t, she still couldn’t fathom a law like that standing.

Apparently, this wasn’t a universal opinion. Callum, Soren, and Ez all looked mystified. Evairas, though…he laughed. “Don’t worry, there’s an exemption for us, and anyone else participating in our culture,” he assured her, and something tight and indignant she’d been carrying around in her chest since arriving finally relaxed. “One of the first things I looked up when I came here, actually. In Katolis they are illegal for everyone. But there’s pretty much no Moonshadow elves living there, so…”

“Wait,” Callum said, now looking confused. Interested, though. “This – is there something I’m missing? What’s so special about drugs to Moonshadow elves?”

“Hallucinogenics, specifically,” Evairas clarified to him. “Given the relationship of the Moon arcanum to reality, truth, and deception, and the strong emphasis of illusion in our magic…substances that induce hallucination have a lot of cultural significance for us, and using them deepens our connection and understanding of the Moon primal. They’re used in a lot of our spirituality and religion. Recreationally, too, though only on special occasions.”

“I’m not even the sort to do the spiritual stuff, and I’m pretty offended at the idea of anyone making it illegal,” Rayla grumbled. “Couldn’t believe it when Kassa said it. I thought, what, have the Moonshadow elves here all been sitting around not calling in hits or blackmailers on the lawmakers? Not bloody likely.” She glanced reflexively at Evairas before she remembered better, and winced back from the flood of intuition. “And you lived in Katolis for a while, even with that law?”

“To be honest, I wasn’t really in the best of places to be opening my connection to the Moon, back then,” he admitted. “It wasn’t important. In the future, though, I plan to ask for an exemption. I will be going back eventually, and I haven’t gone completely native.”

He’s sure he can get that exemption, she understood, without even trying. He knows people who could get that done for him. Then, another unwelcome flash of intuition: Callum could get that done for him. She grimaced, then turned her head enough that she couldn’t even see him in her periphery. “So that’s definitely the weirdest thing,” she concluded, gesturing at Evairas behind her demonstratively. “The idea that something that – fundamental – might be illegal here.”

“Have you taken those drugs, then?” Ez demanded, looking fascinated.

“’Course,” Rayla answered, a little baffled by the question. Who hadn’t, she wanted to ask, but…of course, these were outsiders. Not her kind. None of them had grown up with her ways. It was so weird. “Only the little stuff as a kid, obviously. You know, sweets that make you see funny lights, weird colours and the like? Some really, really weak moonshine, during big celebrations, once you’re a bit older. Was only the last couple years I had some of the proper stuff for the first time.”

“Quite the experience, isn’t it?” Evairas said from beside her, and though she didn’t look, she couldn’t help but feel the strange comfort of that understanding.

She nodded with feeling, feeling dizzy just at the memory.

He didn’t ask her any further about it, and she didn’t expect him to. One of the unspoken understandings among Moonshadow elves was thus: your experiences, your visions, your epiphanies…those were deeply personal. You could tell someone about them, but you didn’t ask.

Of course, the humans didn’t know that. “What was it like? Like being drunk, just plus seeing weird stuff, or…?” Soren asked, and her stomach twisted weirdly.

“You don’t ask that,” she said, a little uncomfortable, and he blinked.

“Oh, huh. Cultural thing? Gotcha.” He accepted that with grace, thankfully.

“I’ve been living here for years and there’s so much I still don’t know,” Callum bemoaned. “I’ve been friends with you for years, Evairas, and I didn’t know this stuff.”

“In fairness, Moonshadow elves are possibly the most reclusive and insular sort there are,” Evairas said, amused. “Most other races of elves know little about us. And I’ve hardly had the most standard Moonshadow life, anyway.”

“I’ll say, if no one ever told you you were a truthfinder when you were young,” Rayla muttered. She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around that. “Or if you’re not training it.”

The pause beside her felt a little like hesitation. “Well,” he said in the end, rueful. “It’s not out of lack of interest. I just don’t have the time, these days. I’m the only assistant teacher on the Katolis Medical Outreach Program here, and that’s a lot of work.”

She considered that. “Truthfinding’s useful in medicine, too.”

“Truthfinding is useful in anything,” he agreed. “I will have to train it someday. It’s too valuable a skill not to. But it hasn’t been my priority – at any point since I found out.”

“After you came to Katolis, you said…?” Callum murmured to him, voice low as though to deter eavesdroppers.

Another hesitant pause. “I was seventeen at the time,” he agreed, cautiously. “A – specialist – came to visit me, to check up on…” Another, much longer pause.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want me hearing,” Rayla spoke up, still carefully not looking. “If you don’t want me knowing, you probably shouldn’t. Not-looking at you only goes so far.”

Callum’s face was carefully blank, and Ez and Soren both looked solemn. Beside her, Evairas held quiet. “…No, I suppose I don’t mind talking about it, really,” he said, eventually. “It’s not like everyone around here doesn’t already know.” A beat. “I took part in the Frontier Deprivation Study.”

Rayla wasn’t imagining the way that conversation around them hushed. It only lasted a moment, before the people at the nearest tables remembered that it wasn’t any of their business, but – the words had fallen like lead weights into the air. Of course they had. She didn’t even know how to react, herself. “That’s…” she started, and had no idea where to go from there.

“It’s alright,” he said, reassuringly, and she couldn’t help but glance over at him. His eyes were understanding, and surely he must have had this reaction a hundred times before. She could see it. “I recovered well enough, though it did take a while. I spent most of that time in the care of the human doctor who’d taken care of me during the study, actually. Ended up her unofficial apprentice, then an official one, and, well. Here I am.” She nodded, woodenly, and kept her mouth closed lest she ask him anything.

She’d read the case studies. Almost everyone did, eventually – the summary articles and most popular pieces of news coverage, if nothing else. It was hard not to. Hard not to follow that thread of morbid curiosity, to wonder, what was it like? How did they live like that? What happened to them afterwards?

Ninety-five percent of the participants of the study had dropped out or been sent home before its two-year timeline concluded. Some, she knew, had never fully recovered from the experience. She couldn’t help but wonder where in those statistics Evairas had fallen – and wondering things, when in such range of a fellow truthfinder, was dangerous indeed. It was only one accidental glance at him and then she knew.

He lasted the whole time, she understood, shaken. All two years, without any magic at all.

It was nauseating even to think of. “Moon above,” she swore, eventually. “No wonder you didn’t care about the truthfinding.”

“I had other things on my mind,” he agreed, and she could see the edge of his shrug beside her. “I – wouldn’t say I regret the experience. It brought me to where I am today, and was…very definitely formative. Still. I’m not planning on moving overseas any time soon.”

“And that’s how you ended up living in Katolis,” she mused, frowning. “And…then you met Callum? Ez?”

The rest of them all shared looks. “Maybe let’s not talk about that one,” Soren decided, and the boys nodded fervently. “This is already too much heavy talk for a party. Let’s talk about…” He searched for something. “Bellators? Bellators. What’s everyone’s favourite squad?”

“You have such a one-track-mind, sometimes,” Callum told him with exasperation. “It’s always training and Honour Games with you.”

“I don’t know, that sounds pretty good to me,” Rayla offered, smiling faintly. “I’m a pretty training-focused person myself.”

The conversation adjusted from there, and she allowed it without protest. These humans – and Evairas – had their secrets. That was fine. She wasn’t going to try to push it, or even try to figure it out.

Still, though. She was on-alert, after that, and it was hard to overlook clues when she saw them. Hard not to notice, when half an hour later, Ez pushed up his sleeve to scratch his arm, and there was a faint and familiar scar there, stretching up his hand and forearm like a crack winding through a pane of glass. Just like the scars she’d seen on Callum’s arms, albeit thinner, and it looked like there was only the one. But…just the same.

She thought of the scars. She thought of the vague, aching knowledge that had jolted into her mind like a lightning-bolt, of how Callum and Evairas had been suffering when they met; that hollow echo of grievous harm. She shivered, and tried not to consider it any further.

The mood recovered from its brief foray into that fraught territory, and the next hours spun from topic to topic in easy humour, interspersed with trips to the kitchen for more food, more drinks, more dessert. A spirited rendition of some human birthday song was held for Callum just before the reveal of an exceptionally large cake, and that was shared around too. In the end, Kassa started clearing the guests out at around midnight, saying “Alright people, some people here have shit to do tomorrow, so start thinking about leaving,” and an hour later, “Get gone, all of you”. This was all delivered via some sort of Sky magic spell that made her voice alarmingly loud.

Rayla, apparently, wasn’t necessarily included in the eviction order. “You can stay over, if you like?” Callum offered, after farewelling the latest departing group. “There’s plenty of couch to sleep on.”

She hesitated, but shook her head. It wasn’t like she’d even drunk any alcohol, to get her in a state such as it might be unwise to walk all the way home. “I’ll manage. Thanks, though.”

He thanked her for coming, anyway. His brother shook her hand again, grinning. “It was nice to meet you, Rayla,” he said merrily. “I hope you stick around. Then maybe I can put you in touch with some security people, sometime.”

Rayla huffed at him, amused. “It was nice to meet you, too,” she agreed. “And…I’ll see what I can do.”

It was a good party, in the end. She’d achieved pretty much the standard party objectives: meeting people, talking to people, having fun. Ethari would surely be pleased. And if the many, many secrets of her new friends were clamouring at her as she walked home…well, she was starting to expect that.

Another truthfinder, she thought ruefully, of Evairas. What are the chances?

Not to mention the rest of it. She wondered what Runaan would say if he knew she’d accidentally fallen in with a bunch of humans who might well offer some very valuable career opportunities, down the line. She glanced towards the invisible guards on her way out, and shook her head bemusedly, uncertain how her life had suddenly taken such a weird turn.

Worry about it in the morning, she decided in the end, and made the long walk home.

---

End chapter.

So like, I wrote a solid 4.2k of this chapter today and am in a very validation-hungry mood apparently, so I’m bringing this instalment to you barely-edited and fresh from the fingers. Pls give comments, I have a mighty need.

Worldbuilding / etc:

Evairas: Moonshadow elf; an OC originating from PIAJ. It was very fun how he ended up having connections to a few important world/backstory things, in this AU.

Frontier: The first city established outside of the Xadian continent; a Katolian colony. For many very plot-relevant reasons, it is entirely inhabited by humans. Elven visitors are exceptionally rare, and those that come never linger for more than a few days. (Ceracurist)

The Frontier Deprivation Study: A two-year-long medical experiment that took place in the city of Frontier, funded by Katolis as well as several elven governments and universities. All participants were elves of various races; all volunteers, all permitted to withdraw at any time. The study is profoundly notorious and infamous, and had far-reaching implications in a lot of ways. This will not be the last time it’s mentioned. (Ceracurist)

Moonshine: the Moonshadow elf term for any alcoholic beverage that contains hallucinogens. There are many, many varieties of moonshine. (PIAJ)

Moonshine epiphany: the catch-all colloquial term for any personal, spiritual, or magical epiphany or realisation or revelation gleaned by a Moonshadow elf who went through one hell of a drug trip. Doesn’t need to have been moonshine specifically, just anything hallucinogenic. (PIAJ)

Paperweights: Stereotypical common gift in many Skywing cultures. This is because, historically, Skywing architecture didn’t really believe in insulation, in part due to Skywing elf cold resistance and in part due to (somewhat justified) superstitions that a building without airflow from outside would cause Skywing elves to get sick. Correspondingly, traditional Skywing buildings tend to be very breezy, and paperweights are a must. They’re a common low-effort gift and knick-knack. (PIAJ)

Truthfinder interactions: A trained truthfinder can always recognise another truthfinder, whether or not that one is trained. The truthfinding ability behaves oddly when two of its bearers are interacting, forming a sort of reciprocal link that permits much, much clearer and more detailed knowledge-gleaning than normal, to the point where it’s possible to derive entire memories if trying hard enough. The untrained truthfinder won’t be able to glean this sort of information from their fellow, but may feel a strange sense of recognition, or of knowing the other elf better than they should. This phenomenon of truthfinder-linking can be controlled, with practice.

#tdp #tdp fic #rayllum #tdp callum #tdp rayla #tdp ezran #tdp soren #ceracurist

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