somewhere in another universe, matthias has this exact photo strip taped to the top of his bedroom mirror. it’s old now, curling at the corners from the heat but he never replaces the tape.
somewhere in another universe, brum isn’t cruel, and van eck isn’t either. they’re both good men and the kind of fathers who bring their sons along to long winter trips in ice court for state meetings. that’s how baby wylan meets baby matthias for the first time. the director’s son and the merchant’s boy. the ice court gardens covered in snow. trassel (not the wolf but an elkhound) finding a small boy in too big gloves and deciding instantly: we keep this one.
matthias shows him around the halls, teaching him fjerdan words. wylan draws the view from the north tower on napkins. their fathers shake hands in the next room, and neither of them notice the beginnings of a friendship that lasts decades. and years later, after peace treaties and university and lives that somehow keep crossing, they end up in that photo booth. wylan’s hair is still messy. matthias is still pretending not to laugh.
and somewhere, in some quiet djerholm apartment, that strip is still on his mirror.
