Chapter 47: Decisions in the Dark
(I painted this in Procreate using the oil paint brushes - Chaiga T Cheska)
Nix, seeing clearly in the near-darkness, gripped Tavik’s shoulder, turned him so they were both facing the dim fire, and pulled them both down to sit cross-legged, leaning their backs against the cool stone. Nix studied his cousin and saw the strain in Tavik’s face. His usual strong demeanour seemed to have seeped away, and Nix was starkly reminded that they were both still just kids, not even adults yet, carrying so much emotional weight that they were cracking at the seams.
“Let’s talk then,” murmured Nix as he studied Tavik. “Help me think through things, but talk through the tether.” His glowing eyes flicked in the darkness towards the elf, far beyond their shadow. “I don’t fully trust her.”
Nix watched as his cousin’s face contorted in misery. Tavik gulped, then angrily wiped a tear away with his knuckle before turning blindly towards where Nix was speaking from. Tavik couldn’t see as well as Nix in this darkness and wished he had better control over his magic, feeling briefly sorry for himself and his wretched situation, but he took a deep breath and concentrated on the tether as he glanced towards the silhouettes of his two brothers who were now standing and peering into the darkness.
“We haven’t got long, Nix,” whispered Tavik through the tether, watching Oren grip Bran’s shoulder as they faced them, but couldn’t see them in the shadow. “Oren is in big-brother mode, so he’s giving me space, and then he’ll drag Bran into this shadow to find me.”
Nix felt Tavik’s despondent sigh through the tether and reached out, putting a hand on his cousin’s shoulder and squeezing once, before dropping his hand and staring sideways at his face. “It’s going to be alright, Tavik,” said Nix through their tether, feeling that perhaps this was something Tavik had to hear.
“How can you know that, Nix?” Nix watched as Tavik dropped his head to his chest, embodying defeat, something Nix had never seen from his cousin before. This time he kept his hand on Tavik’s shoulder as he spoke, letting calm thread into every word that passed along the tether between them. “I know this is just a moment in our journey, a difficult one, but not something we can’t overcome. We just need to look at all the angles of where we are so we can find a way forward. That’s all.”
Tavik felt a strange calm settle over him, and he breathed and looked up, straining to see Nix in the darkness beside him, wondering, not for the first time, about his cousin and what he might yet become, feeling that there was hope, there was always hope.
“You know, Nix, you’re very wise for one so young,” murmured Tavik, breathing more deeply and feeling better, thinking he could barely make out his cousin’s profile beside him, which was better than not seeing him at all. Tavik wondered whether being calmer had anything to do with seeing better in the dark, but dismissed it as wishful thinking. Nix dropped his hand from Tavik’s shoulder and smirked through the tether, “Of course, being calm helps your magic in the dark!”
Tavik’s heart thumped hard, and he squinted, trying to see his cousin. “You heard my thoughts! Nix! How did you do that?” Tavik worked hard not to think anything he didn’t want Nix to know, and he felt nervous.
Nix smiled through the tether. “Don’t worry, I can’t read your thoughts, only those you wear on your face.”
Tavik sighed, then wondered how readable his face was. Feeling Nix chuckle through the tether, he took a deep breath and looked out towards the edge of the firelight, where Oren and Bran were silhouetted. “Oren’s coming, but he and Bran can’t see in this darkness.”
They watched as Oren stepped deeper into the shadows, with Bran holding on to him and following carefully. Oren called out, “Tavik? Nix?” Nix stood, crossed to Oren, and touched his arm. “Be careful, Oren. The roof is lowering. Come this way.” Oren allowed himself to be guided into the deeper darkness of the overhang, reaching back with one arm to hold onto his younger brother, who stumbled along blindly behind him on the uneven stone floor.
“Nix, where’s Tavik? He’s upset,” Oren murmured as Nix pulled him along, telling him to duck because he was too tall for the space. “He’s fine. You need to crouch, Oren. This way.”
Tavik waited, hearing only scuffling and murmured voices, then felt his brothers settle blindly into place, sitting cross-legged and facing him in the darkness, their knees bumping together. Tavik felt Bran’s hand find his knee, then half caught him as Bran launched into a clumsy hug. “Are you alright, Tav? Is it because of what I said about you keeping a secret? I’m sorry, Tav… ow!” Tavik pushed Bran back and then belatedly caught him again, realising he’d pushed him into the stone wall. It was just so dark. Bran rubbed his head as Tavik drew him close to sit beside him, one arm settling over Bran’s shoulders while his brother kept quietly rubbing at the sore spot. “Sorry, Bran,” murmured Tavik, as Oren reached over and thumped Tavik’s shoulder.
“You alright, Tav?” whispered Oren, as he leaned past Tavik to rest a hand briefly on Bran’s shoulder. Nix sank down to sit between Tavik and Oren and glanced over at Bran, who looked relieved to have Tavik’s arm around his shoulders but wore a pained expression as he rubbed his head and glowered at the offending wall behind him. Nix observed his younger cousin, tilted his head, and then spoke softly to Bran, “Use your Portalsight, Bran, but concentrate it on your sore head and then see if anything changes.”
Bran frowned but followed Nix’s words, and this time he also made sure to focus the root of his magical use into the stone around him, which he felt was as good as the fire he’d used in his first attempt to anchor his magic. He then focused his Portalsight on the soreness in his head and saw colours that jumped about in his vision, mirroring the throb of pain he felt. He instinctively envisioned the colours relaxing and fading, and felt them shift and calm until they faded along with the throb of his pain, which startled him so much that he looked across at Nix and realised, with a jolt, that he could see him clearly even though it was pitch dark. Something had changed. Nix was smiling back at him as if he had expected this result. Bran sat up straighter beside Tavik and glanced between his cousin and his two older brothers, who still seemed unable to see in the darkness. “Nix!” Bran’s voice came out high and squeaky, and he coughed and then tried again. “How did you know that would happen?”
Nix just smiled and shrugged as Oren and Tavik swung their heads, squinting towards the sound of their voices, trying to work out what had just happened. Tavik ruffled Bran’s hair, and Bran ducked, then messed up Tavik’s in return. “I can see in the dark! It’s amazing!” squeaked Bran as Nix put his finger to his lips and flicked his eyes towards the distant fire and the scribe and elf, still deep in silent conversation.
“Good for you, little brother,” Tavik replied, then spoke to Nix through the tether, “Nix, I have to tell them about Liv! I just have to!” Tavik felt the prickle of tension rise behind his ribs again, especially as he looked towards the distant glow of the fire and the two figures still talking beside it. Tavik wondered why Olis and Liv hadn’t reacted to them all now sitting in the darkness, and the hair on the back of his neck rose as he thought perhaps they both knew something he did not. Nix shifted beside Tavik and replied through the tether as the murmur of Oren and Bran discussing what he’d just learned washed over them, giving them a moment to talk privately, “I’ve been thinking about that and wonder how well Bran can keep a secret? If we do share what we know about Liv with Oren and Bran, how well can they keep this from Liv?”
Tavik shifted uncomfortably, aware of his younger brother’s presence beside him, and felt his heart sink as he knew Bran very well. It wasn’t that Bran couldn’t keep a secret, exactly. It was that knowing their mother sat right there, and having to treat her as a stranger regardless of what he felt, would be devastating for him. Tavik knew it. “Bran can keep secrets, but this is huge, Nix! He’ll want to know more about her; he’ll try to get to know her better. He could make her suspicious of us. He’ll probably be emotional… but Oren, he’ll just look wounded and swallow it. Oh, what do I do?!” Tavik let his anguish show through the tether to Nix, but worked hard to pretend outwardly that he was alright, as he knew Bran could now see in the dark and was studying him.
Oren could sense something was happening, even though he couldn’t see anything in the dark. He kept his voice low, whispering to Tavik, “What’s going on, Tav? I can’t hear it, but I get the feeling you and Nix are talking about something through your tether. Is that right, Nix?”
Tavik stiffened and drew in a sharp breath, wondering how on earth his older brother could be so observant even in total darkness. Then he remembered he needed to look normal, but it was too late, because Bran was really watching him now and had narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on, Tav? You look panicked!”
Tavik wished he could see in the dark, like Bran and Nix. He suddenly felt he couldn’t keep Liv’s identity secret any longer. He felt Nix poke him in the ribs beside him, and a pressure through the tether from his cousin urging him to be careful. Tavik took a deep breath, turned his head towards where he felt his younger brother was, and said carefully and quietly, “Bran, what I’m going to share with you now is painful and not easy to hear, but I want you to promise me you’ll not show any reaction, such as shouting or any noise of any kind. I know you get excited and overreact sometimes.”
Bran shot him a disgusted look that went completely unseen, folded his arms, looked affronted, and said, “I’m not that bad! Honestly, Tav!”
Tavik ignored Bran’s sounds of irritation and nudged his younger brother, wanting an answer. “I mean it, Bran. You have to keep what I share to yourself. You can share how you feel with just us, but you have to keep your composure at all other times. Do you promise?”
Bran drew in a deep breath, nodded, and then, forgetting Tavik couldn’t see him, responded with an offended, “Yes, go on then.”
Satisfied, Tavik straightened, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered, “Liv is our mother, before she met our father. She doesn’t know who we are, and we need to keep it that way, or we may never be born.”
