Mirror of Echoes
Chapter 4
May 2004

Getting to hold Jesa (even if the two were in a crisis when Teryx did so) became less and less worthwhile as the Lord Fenix’s tirade went on longer and longer and longer.

And longer.

In fact, Teryx wondered if he should start taking notes and see if his father repeated anything. So far, his father covered his son’s stupidity, recklessness, outrageous behavior, deviance from protocol, moving on to the expense of refurbishing the ruined mudang’s room, and how his father never was like that when he was young. Between and during the various subjects, the Lord Fenix roared various curses, some of which Teryx never before heard. He decided that he should just take notes on the choice words, not necessarily the subject of the diatribe. He suppressed a sigh.

At least Jesa’s getting sleep, he thought, remembering how fragile the shaman looked on his bed, pale from exhaustion. He was a picture painted with shadow and starlight.

“And I trusted you! Trusted you to be responsible and take care of the guest who has extreme importance! How do you think this will reflect on our family? That we are obvious poor company for any of those in the high ranks, that we do not respect the high class of Kyerim?!” his father raged, throwing his arms in wild gesticulations. The dirty-blonde was sorely tempted to mention that the ghost was gone though. The male resisted though.

Points to him for self-control; so far the situation deemed Teryx the only one to have any restraint.

Hmmm, I think Father’s been going at it for about twenty minutes so far, wonder how much longer it’ll be, Teryx wondered faintly, still under the onslaught of the verbal abuse. Hope Jesa’s okay… And he smelled good… He twitched. Keep your mind off the overly graphic thoughts, Teryx. And stay away from them.

At least until later.

Unfortunately, his slight smile at that thought gave his father a fresh target for his wrath.

Shit.

---

The raven-haired youth drifted back and forth out of consciousness, feeling the dim reminders of pain somewhere in his body. Always he heard the constant reassurance of Kyonggae in the back of his mind, always present; it was a pleasant background, soothing and tranquil. Jesa just didn’t want to wake up yet. He sank back into unconsciousness each time he felt drawn back to reality; really, he was much more at peace in the dark recesses of slumber than in reality. He didn’t have to deal with ageism or hero worship. The boy didn’t have to think about dirty-blonde guys that he felt too attracted to in too little time. Most of all, he didn’t have to deal with his rank and his Mark.

But eventually, his physical needs dragged him back into consciousness. Damn body.

He swam back into a semi-aware state, cracking open his eyes ever so slightly. And promptly shut his eyes.

Bright lights… bad… Jesa thought, his brain slowly picking up in speed as he switched from standby to active. So far, there weren’t any noticeable aches and pains. All right. I think I’m okay. Let’s try this. He pushed himself up with his elbows and managed to keep his torso up for a whole three seconds until he immediately fell back down onto the pillow, groaning.

Ow. Okay, so Jesa didn’t feel the pain when he wasn’t moving. All he had to do was… just not move.

I wouldn’t try moving again. It might result in something worse than just pain, a familiar voice echoed in his mind. Jesa didn’t have the energy to smile, but he managed to force out a snort except that hurt a lot more than he thought. You can open your eyes now. I veiled your sight. Jesa slowly opened his eyes, no longer blinded by the sunlight streaming from the window. He dimly sensed the foreign magic shielding his eyes, artificially dimming the light.

Bet sunglass manufacturers wished they had a haetae the shaman mused randomly. He licked his lips, clearing his voice so he could talk. His first attempt resulted in an odd, clogged sound. His second attempt actually produced semi-intelligible words.

“How long have I been out of it?” he asked, his voice cracking from disuse. He saw the haetae leap from the floor onto the foot of the bed. It circled around like a cat before settling down.

Two days. The strain from forcing the evocations left you with some major backlash, and you didn’t have any buffers to drain the recoil. That, coupled with your shoulder kept you down, and you will stay down or you’ll be in bed a lot longer than just a few days, Kyonggae replied.

“Two days?” the mudang repeated in surprise. “I’ve been unconscious for only two days?” For all the power of the evocations he had to cast before, Jesa expected a higher number like five to seven days at the least. “Did you manage to buffer some of the spells or did I just get better?”

That’s the odd part, the haetae remarked, since you should’ve been out for at least a week. I didn’t have time to ward off the backlash when it hit, because something was blocking me. But whatever the force was, it was draining a lot of the recoil. Kyonggae yawned. But you’re better now. Not by much though.

“You’re not telling me something. What could block our bond? The gods bonded you to me. How can something block that kind of connection?” the youth asked, suspicious. The spirit beast shrugged, nonchalant. Jesa sighed in frustration. “Fine. Be a bastard.”

I know who my parents are, thank you very much.

“Hmph.” The shaman closed his eyes briefly, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming; the backlash wasn’t completely gone. “So, now what?

You rest and get better. That’s another thing: you’re healing much faster than normal, but probably because we lucked out. No hospitals and doctors for this family; they have a certified healer from Eire on staff! Plus, the Lady Fenix is quite thankful to you, the haetae replied. Probably only less thankful than Teryx. He was very worried about you. Jesa ignored the hint, rolling his eyes but even that hurt!

“An Eirian healer? That’s nice… must be expensive,” he commented. Eirian healers were one of the most sought after doctors of the flesh and spirit on the planet. They combined medicine and metaphysical practices along with some innate instinct that marked Eire healers from other doctors and healers. The class of an Eirian healer required many years of study and practice, most dedicating their life from early childhood to the path. Very few had Eirian healers in the area much less on paid staff for a household.

From the amount of money the Lord Fenix makes, it’s probably nothing but a trifle, Kyonggae said dryly. No matter. More luck to us. Oh, the Lady Fenix is on the verge of convincing her poor excuse for a husband to hire you to set up permanent wards on the house. She’s a smart one… wonder how she winded up here.

“Well, I can’t do that until I’ve found the focus of that power draining field that we found before,” Jesa informed his spirit guardian. “Anyway, do you have any ideas on that subject?”

Well, the drain isn’t as bad as before, and your power levels don’t seem to be affected, anymore. Your shields must be strong enough now to hold off the sapping field, the haetae replied. The toeju doesn’t seem to be any stronger though. You might have to do something about that.

“Place the spirit in a containment shell?” Jesa inquired, closing his eyes again. Having the world suddenly start swirling didn’t feel too good.

Probably. The toeju needs to regain its strength to be able to communicate. Right now, the earth spirit barely exists. If we can somehow neutralize the focus of the drain, the toeju on its own should be able to protect the house, Kyonggae responded. Jesa nodded sleepily. He just felt so tired…

Silence. After a few moments, the haetae got up onto its feet. The spirit guardian nuzzled its charge, prismatic eyes looking dolefully upon the pale face. Kyonggae’s horn burned brighter, the brilliance flooding the room. As swiftly as the light came, it dimmed into a soft radiance that danced over the mudang, divine flames coruscating over the raven tresses. Except an opposing blaze layered itself beneath the haetae’s heavenly fire, a blurred crimson inferno washed over the raven-haired youth, a challenge to the divine light.

Kyonggae was surprised, the rainbow hued eyes studying the shield of fire that blocked the light of the gods. Lips pulled back to bare sharp teeth, the haetae laughing. As if in deference to the opposing flame, the celestial luminosity faded away. Kyonggae sat back on its haunches, watching the scarlet blaze continue to circle the sleeping boy. Slowly, the inferno receded; the guardian spirit assumed the fire would disperse to all directions, but the haetae was surprised yet again. The flames settled upon the shaman’s body, sinking into the flesh. Kyonggae sensed a sudden, small change in its charge. Instead of being angry or driven to hunt down whatever threatened its child, the beast chuckled.

Not so long now, is it? it asked the air, mirth in its voice but underscored by a hint of regret. It shook its head, the multihued eyes not missing the new aura that wrapped around the youth’s body, an added radiance of warmth. Yes, not so long, now.

Not even a slight breeze and the haetae vanished.

---

Teryx’s mother was a slender, diminutive woman with long, wavy black hair and delicate features, like a nightingale. In fact, she had a nice enough voice to fit the description. Unfortunately, she passed none of this to her children except her wavy black hair, which only Miriam received. Both Teryx and Stefan had curly hair; Stefan was a blond; they both had curly hair. Even though all of the Lady Fenix’s children had inherited their father’s height, the woman still had a firm grip on her children and husband, not at all shortchanged by her lack of height. In fact, her children thought it was rather frightening to see such a small woman angry. Like a piece of dynamite: small and easy to hide but devastating when set off.

She was not stupid by any means; on the contrary, she was very intelligent and resourceful. The Lady Fenix also knew a little about the ways of ghosts and the little gods of the world that existed in everything. She always performed the rites to the toeju, the house god, each year; she had no power in any sense, be it divine or arcane, but she was well versed in the histories of the mudang and the gangsinmu, the God Marked.

In short, the Lady Fenix was a remarkable woman.

This was why she moved Jesa into the rooms in the lower levels of the manor, in the basement levels. The woman knew her folklore well: the earth was well-known in Kyerim folktales as a revitalizing power, home to many gods of protection. In her mind, the shaman hopefully would be safe until he recovered.

The boy shaman. He was just so young… She knew he couldn’t be older than Teryx, her youngest. The woman looked at the sleeping boy, saddened. The mudang looked so young and so innocent. Not one of the bearers of the Mark of the Gods. Not a wielder of the divine magic of the heavens. The Lady Fenix remembered when she looked into the guest quarters, the damage done to the furniture and walls – a testament to the power of the shaman.

Teryx had been looking after the boy after the servants moved Jesa into the new rooms, waiting for him to wake up, the Lady Fenix supposed. She watched too, waiting for the raven-haired youth to wake up every few times a day, half conscious as she forced bits of food into him. The woman’s son did the same, both of them switching shifts with the servants. She thought it was rather nice of Teryx to take care of the mudang.

“Mother?” Speak of the devil.

“Yes?” she asked, glancing up at her son.

“How is he?”

“He’s recovering. He has been coming to consciousness sporadically, so don’t expect too much conversation,” she replied with a faint smile. Her son tried to smile back but winced in pain. The woman frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Teryx said, just a little too quickly. His mother just gave him a look. She went over and felt his forehead.

“Teryx, you’re warm… you should be in bed. You probably have a small head cold but don’t let it get worse,” the mother scolded her son. “Your trials are in only a few months! You can’t afford to get sick!”

“Mother, I’ll be fine. Really,” the dirty-blond replied, exasperated as he fended off her attempts to mother him.

“If you say so,” the woman said dubiously. “Well, since you’re here, I’m going to go off and finish my work.” Teryx shrugged.

“That’s fine.”

“All right. Well, send word to me if something comes up,” the Lady Fenix said, before opening the door quietly and slipping out. Teryx walked over and closed the door behind his mother.

Your mother is a very smart lady.

“Holy shit!” Teryx jumped back, crouching into a fighting position from the surprise. In front of him on the bed, Kyonggae laughed. “God damn it, don’t sneak up on me like that!” The beast guardian bared its teeth, grinning.

You should be more aware of your surroundings then, knight-to-be, the haetae rejoined, swishing its tail. And as I was saying, your mother is very intelligent and well-versed.

“Pray tell, oh great spirit,” Teryx asked sarcastically. The spirit sniffed in response.

Hmph. I shouldn’t tell you, but in my great benevolent nature, I shall, Kyonggae said haughtily. The dirty-blond stifled his laughter. The haetae’s tail lashed in part annoyance, part amusement. Humans.

“Seriously though, why is my mother so intelligent all of a sudden?”

She recalled from the ancient folktales of Kyerim, that the earth produces a natural dampening effect on any kinds of energies not related to the land itself. In normal cases, this would not be good for Jesa, but since he is suffering from backlash, the earth is helping to drain away the recoil.

“Interesting. So, how effective was the move?” Teryx inquired.

Well… not nearly as powerful as to reduce the backlash so that Jesa can regain conscious this soon. Something else is… “sharing” the pain, so to speak. It’s a most puzzling development, the haetae explained.

“Wait, so how long would he be out normally?”

At least a week. He performed an exorcism without proper preparation and execution, so he pays the price for taking the shortcut. Not like he had much of a choice anyway.

“I was sort of wondering why he wasn’t doing the dancing and singing my mother said a mudang normally does,” the dirty-blond remarked.

The preparation and the rituals help reduce and channel away the recoil. After all, he is evoking the power of the gods. He’s trying to summon through his own channels, a force so beyond this dimension that they cannot even be present here without reducing their own power, Kyonggae said dryly.

“Will he be all right?” Teryx asked, concerned as he glanced over at the slumbering youth. The haetae nodded.

He’ll be fine. He just needs rest. As do you, the spirit beast chided. How can you take care of Jesa when you’re about to fall over yourself? I know you’ve been hiding your sickness from your mother. A head cold? Huh. You, my friend, are a horrible liar.

“What do you know?” he shot back defensively. “I’m perfectly all right.”

Boy, you don’t even realize. You’re overextending yourself, which is nota good thing at this point. It’s too critical, and I just can’t let you endanger your situation worse than you already have.

“What do you mean?” Teryx asked suspiciously. “You can’t do anything.” Kyonggae snorted.

Whatever you say, it replied sarcastically.And with that, the haetae faded from the room.

“What does he know,” the dirty-blond said into the air. He paused. “Right?”

---

After three more days of passing in and out of consciousness, Jesa finally woke up for good. Of course, in spite of his protests, the Lady Fenix told him under no uncertain terms that if he got up from bed without assistance, she would personally latch her youngest son onto the mudang. She also warned him that her son was very persistent. For some reason, the raven-haired youth was a bit perturbed at that threat and deigned to follow the woman’s instructions perfectly. The thought of having a Teryx constantly nagging both amused and frightened Jesa.

He did win, though, on the account of going outside. He was at the Fenix House on a job, and he would finish his job. Even though he exorcised the gwishin did not mean his finished his work. He still had to locate the toeju of the house; that would be a handful and more since the toeju was still very weak. It was hard for Jesa to sense the land spirit, but he needed to start somewhere. Plus, he still needed to find the focus of the anti-magic field. So far, he couldn’t perceive even the presence of the drain; he grabbed the unexpected respite and searched for the toeju as much as his weakened body allowed.

The entire time, Teryx took the shaman’s odd outings without a single remark, helping him from the massive garage (which had several very nice looking cars – Jesa knew nothing about them, though) to the stables (Jesa wondered why they wasted money on a stable). The older male never complained. In fact, the dirty-blond had been quite congenial, friendly even. Jesa knew he shouldn’t complain, but ever since the odd dream (it wasn’t a dream, it was real, he kept telling himself), he hadn’t been able to treat Teryx the same. He felt bad whenever he accidentally presented the other boy with his apathetic aspect, and he didn’t quite feel comfortable acting friendly; it was just a trifle odd for someone to suddenly become open and gay and declare friendship to the world when the two knew virtually nothing about each other.

So, Jesa floundered in the land of polite discourse. Yes, he knew he was being such a hypocrite.

Both males were at lunch with Miriam de Fenix; Teryx had excused himself to go to the bathroom and left Jesa and Miriam sitting in an awkward silence. That is, until the girl decided to be blunt.

“So, when are you going to stop tiptoeing around my brother?” Jesa choked on his food, grabbing for his drink and downing the water. He coughed a little before making a reply.

“What do you mean, ‘tiptoeing?’” the shaman inquired, his expression unreadable. Miriam rolled her eyes.

“You know, for all I know about you, my brother didn’t say you were a hypocrite,” she said conversationally as Jesa’s eyes widened. “I mean, you did tell him off for following protocol; he never normally sticks to protocol, though. You must have really affected him for him to start word dancing like some diplomat in a high court.”

“Word dancing,” Jesa repeated dryly. “I suppose there are worse terms.”

“Yes, and I’ve used some of them myself. Now, I understand why protocol is necessary – it still is such a bore though! – but you made it quite clear to my brother you dislike it. So why the sudden retreat?” she asked, somehow managing to sound completely innocent yet with the undertone of a detective, a push detective at that. Jesa frowned. The way Miriam phrased it – “retreat” – hit much too close to the mark for the mudang. Admittedly, he did tell off Teryx that first night… but then ever since, Jesa had been “word dancing.” The raven-haired youth had his own suspicions why, but he didn’t want to face them quite yet.

“A force of habit… I suppose,” the boy replied blithely. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it. Thank you for pointing it out to me.” Wow. That was an incredibly horrible lie, Jesa thought to himself. You definitely deserve to be smacked for that. The girl didn’t quite glare at him, but she came close.

“My brother talks about you incessantly. It’s kind of amusing, though. He’s hadn’t had this kind of obsession for quite a long time; it’s rather healthy for him, I think. He’s been rather blasé lately, and it’s just not him,” she said in an offhand matter. Jesa raised his eyebrows. Teryx talked about him? This was news. Miriam noted the shaman’s surprised expression. “Oh yes, so I’m pretty sure I know all about your politeness and your version of protocol. You seem to have quite an elaborate one, something for every occasion. Must be a nightmare where you live – always under protocol.”

“It’s not as much of a nightmare as you think. You get used to it,” Jesa responded wryly. The girl shrugged.

“Either way, it would be a nightmare compared to what we have to do here. At least here, protocol is normally confined to the upper echelons and the courts. But that’s not the point. The point is that you need to stop being a hypocrite and be a friend. My brother in his oddest sense thinks you as a friend. Start being his,” Miriam ordered. Jesa opened his mouth to respond when Teryx came back. The raven-haired youth immediately shut his mouth and looked down at his plate. Teryx just gave Jesa an odd look then turned to his sister.

“Mother wants to talk to you later. She mentioned the fete,” the dirty-blond informed the girl. Miriam nodded.

“All right, I’ll go to her now,” she said, rising from her seat. She gave her brother a quick peck on the cheek before sweeping out the room. Another hush fell after her departure, but not nearly as stifling or uncomfortable as the silence between Jesa and Miriam. The metallic tinkle of silverware against ceramic filled the quiet, Jesa keeping his eyes trained towards the table. After about a minute, Teryx finally looked at the shaman.

“Jesa?” Dark brown eyes glanced up, a guarded expression on the mudang’s face.

“Yes?” the boy inquired. Teryx took a deep breath. All or nothing, he reminded himself. Well… maybe not quite so severe. But I have to take the risk.

“Would you like to go riding after this? I really love the horses my family owns and it would be interesting and you’d get a break from searching for the toeju,” Teryx exhaled quickly. Jesa blinked. The dirty-blond held his breath, nervous to what the mudang’s answer would be. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked, maybe he should’ve just maintained the distance… and riding? Jesa probably didn’t even like riding, much less riding with Teryx…

“Sure. That would be… wonderful,” Jesa replied, giving a tiny smile. Instantly, Teryx grinned back, feeling elated inside. One victory down. Still smiling, Teryx looked down to finish eating. A comfortable peace took hold, as a maid entered and brought tea for the mudang. The raven-haired youth thanked the woman, bowing the only way people sitting down can. The girl curtsied before taking the shaman’s and Miriam’s plate.

“Are you done yet, sir?” she queried Teryx. He nodded, handing her the plate.

“Thanks, Alinna,” the dirty-blond male said. The girl bobbed her head, laden with the plates, and walked from the room. Jesa sipped his green tea, staring out the window into the sunlit world beyond the glass. Meanwhile, Teryx was staring at Jesa; the older boy was plotting how to gain victory number two.

“Have you ever had one of those days when you just look out into the world and revel how peaceful it is?” Jesa murmured to no one in particular. Abruptly, the raven-haired youth looked directly at Teryx, the light slanting into the younger boy’s eyes in such a way to have them sparkle like glass. The sunlight added warmth to Jesa’s olive skin, creating an instant photograph of pure, unsullied grace. “One of those days where you wish you could just fly into the sky and just enfolding yourself into the warmth of the sun?”

“Sure,” Teryx heard himself saying in reply – he was drunk from Jesa’s sunlit beauty, “but I would rather just let go of myself entirely and lose myself into the sky.”

“Really? Interesting… I’d be probably too afraid to do something like that,” the shaman replied thoughtfully.

“What if someone was there to catch you after you let go?” Teryx said impulsively. Jesa looked surprised at that question, pausing to think about it.

“I guess… I guess it would be okay then. Only if there was someone to catch me, though,” the younger boy affirmed, nodding slowly. Another pause, then Jesa looked away. Teryx felt as if he should say something, draw the moment out to the very end; he couldn’t find any words. “So… are you going to show me your horses?” For a moment, Teryx felt disappointed but quickly pushed aside that sentiment for contentment. After all, he was going to go show his new friend one of his most beloved hobbies: horses.

“All right, then,” Teryx said, getting up. He walked around the table and held a hand out to Jesa, a slender, small olive skinned hand slipping into a larger, callused tanned hand.

“Thank you,” Jesa murmured. Teryx felt the irrational need to start dancing. Instead, he satisfied himself by grinning widely.

“My pleasure,” Teryx replied. They left the dining room, just missing the ripple in the air in one of the corners of the room.

Even spirit guardians need their form of entertainment.

---

“Good day, sirs,” the stable master said, nodding. The man was about the same height as Teryx, dark brown hair graying as blue eyes still were bright.

“Hullo Relph,” Teryx answered, grinning. “And how are you today?” The grizzled man shrugged eloquently.

“As I’ll ever be,” Relph responded. He noticed the dark-haired boy beside Teryx. “The shaman, is it?”

“Good day, sir,” Jesa said deferentially, bowing. The stable master snorted.

“No ‘sirs’ for me. Besides, you’re a shaman; in all rights, I should be bowing to you,” the man said. The mudang opened his mouth to protest when Relph cut him off, “but I don’t take any shit from the uppity-ups or anyone else.”

“Be nice,” the dirty-blond told the stable-master, giving the man a glare that was only half farce. Teryx didn’t want Jesa to be scared off and Relph might have been too disconcerting for the sheltered teen. Teryx quickly discovered over the last few days that, for all the power of the mudang and their knowledge, they lived a very secluded life. They trained in diplomacy and high noble social etiquette, but apparently, most didn’t deal too much with the servant class. From what Jesa told Teryx, the City of the Gods was largely self-sufficient in the matters of servants. Magic was a constant companion in the isolated city, taking care of many needs that servants normally fulfilled. Other magical beings such as the dokkaebi – medium-sized draconic creatures found in the Eastern lands that possessed a great deal of power – took care of the other necessities that the magic of the city could not accomplish.

“Aye, I will be. Don’t worry your little head over that,” the graying man replied, chuckling.

“I hope I do not cause any disrespect to you, sir,” the raven-haired boy said, bowing again. Relph frowned a little at the use of the title, but he said nothing. Teryx shook his head. Jesa was to politeness as the dirty-blond was to fighting. It was an irrevocable part of both of them.

“So, you’ll be riding today, young masters?” Relph queried. The taller boy nodded. “I’ll saddle Bucephalus. What about your friend here?”

“Mm… What about Fari?” Teryx suggested. Jesa cleared his throat, giving the taller male a look. “Oh, it’s fine Teryx. She’s as gentle as anything can be.”

“Good idea. She hasn’t had much exercise lately,” the stable master agreed. Jesa opened his mouth to say something when Relph interrupted him. “Don’t worry, boy. She won’t give you any trouble at all.”

“Excuse me, but I am not worried about the horse at all. I would ride my own horse if I wanted,” Jesa managed to finally say.

“Why didn’t you say so? So, you’re the owner of that black horse? Very nice breeding, might I say,” Relph said enthusiastically.

“Wait, so what are you worried about, then?” Teryx asked, confused. The shaman sighed.

“I’m not exactly in the condition to ride. I forgot when we were sitting down, but I don’t think I can ride by myself just quite yet,” the raven-haired boy explained while casting his eyes to the heavens for patience. “I apologize for not thinking of it before.” Teryx frowned. This wouldn’t do at all…

Idea, Teryx thought suddenly, breaking out into a wide grin. Jesa looked warily at the dirty-blond, disconcerted at the abrupt smile.

“You can ride with me!” the taller male said triumphantly. The mudang just gave the other boy another look. “What?” Jesa struggled to find a protest to what he knew wouldn’t be a good idea, but the traitorous part of his mind that clamored for the chance to be near Teryx was winning over the rest of his brain. The younger male knew he shouldn’t have even agreed to ride in the first place; it was just so tempting…

“I… shouldn’t be riding. I’m not totally recovered yet,” the shaman said a bit desperately. Teryx cocked his head to the side, giving the raven-haired boy a piercing look. Jesa refused to look away, instantly meeting the challenge.

“You don’t have a choice in this matter. You need fresh air. You need to get away from the house, away from all your… work. You need to take a break; you’re only human,” Teryx pronounced, grabbing Jesa’s hand. The mudang quelled the thoughts that adored the strength and comfort Teryx’s hand possessed; Jesa was getting quickly annoyed by his reactions. Damn it, he was supposed to be in control of his emotions!

“But…” the boy protested weakly as the taller male all but dragged Jesa to a stall. Teryx turned around and shook his head emphatically.

“Nope. No choice in this matter. Come on, I’m not that bad at riding,” the dirty-blond said.

“That’s not the point though…”

“You’ll be fine,” Teryx replied, ignoring what Jesa meant and construing the sentence to his own advantage. The shaman was rather irritated though amused. “I’m a very careful rider, so you have nothing to worry about. Right, Relph?” The stable master merely chuckled in return. The raven-haired youth frowned again, still searching for an excuse. Teryx sighed. “Do you really not want to ride? We don’t have to if you don’t want. I mean it. I only meant it to relax you.”

Relax… sure. Like I’d be doing that, Jesa thought sardonically. But… he didn’t want to appear cold nor did he want to alienate the other boy. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. It was just a horse ride after all, nothing more.

“It’s fine,” Jesa said finally, with the hint of a smile. “I don’t mind. I was just worried about your reaction. I mean, I wouldn’t have much objection against riding, but I’m not totally used to the customs here…” I’m babbling. I need to shut up now, the shaman thought. Teryx offered a charming smile in return.

“Don’t worry,” he said, with a wide grin. “Come on, meet Bucephalus!” Teryx gestured to the palomino in the stall. This horse had a particular gold shade that didn’t seem quite possible, but then again, Jesa didn’t know much about horses anyway. “Bucephalus happens to be my favorite horse, and he does quite a lot to earn that title, don’t you?” Bucephalus nickered softly as Teryx stroked the horse’s head.

“Nice to meet you, Bucephalus,” Jesa said, feeling foolish as he bowed to the horse. Still, he felt the need to do so; it just seemed right. The palomino merely looked at him, as if taking the measure of the shaman. The raven-haired boy felt slightly unnerved at this scrutiny and cast about for an excuse to move away. Fortunately, Relph presented the perfect opportunity.

“You’ll saddle him, Relph?” Teryx asked. The grizzled man nodded.

“Yup. Now, move on over so I can get the boy ready,” the stable master ordered, making shooing gestures towards the two younger males. Stifling a chuckle, the dirty-blond gently propelled the mudang a distance a ways.

“You’re still okay with this?” the taller boy asked, eyes bright with true concern. Jesa swallowed; how could he say no to that look, a gaze that was so sincere without any double meanings. Without any strings attached.

“Completely,” Jesa reassured, although he was still a bit averse to the whole idea; close contact was not something advocated in Kyerim. The shaman didn’t exactly appreciate people forcing themselves into his personal space, but he didn’t want to hurt the other boy’s feelings. “It’ll be good for me – a nice change to all the work.” Teryx’s face brightened immediately. The shorter youth offered a wane smile in return, but he felt some of the taller male’s enthusiasm rubbing off – the smile attempt was genuine, at least.

An awkward silence descended between the two as Relph muttered curses in the background as he saddled the horse. Jesa cast his gaze to the floor, folding his arms. Teryx self-consciously ran a hand through his hair, tapping his foot in time with some internal melody. Neither male knew what to say; it was as if the narrator had run out of words, and the script was gone. The moment dragged out longer, the embarrassment growing between the teenagers. Finally, Relph saved them with a timely interruption – if it could be called that since nothing was going on – saying:

“Bucephalus is ready, sirs.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jesa said, bowing. Teryx gave the stable master a relieved smile.

“Thanks, Relph.”

“Don’t be getting yourself into trouble, now. Be careful,” Relph ordered, slapping Teryx on the shoulder. “Go give him some exercise – don’t want to get out of practice before the trials now, do we?”

“I hope not,” the dirty-blond returned dryly. He impatiently ushered Jesa to the saddled palomino. The shaman looked up at the horse, its height daunting to the youth. Teryx noticed Jesa’s expression and shook his head, smiling. “Come on, surely you’ve ridden a horse before,” he teased.

“I have, thank you very much,” Jesa retorted, “I rode one here to keep the ghost from killing you.” The dirty-blond winced. “It’s just… a little intimidating when you’re sick. Not to mention, this is a rather large horse.”

“Yeah, Bucephalus is pretty big as horses go. Here, I’ll get on first and swing you up,” Teryx said.

“You know you’re sick when you can’t even get onto a horse by yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” the taller male chided good-naturedly, “Bucephalus is a big horse, plus you haven’t really had the best of days recently, either.” Jesa merely snorted in reply. Teryx laughed before swinging himself up onto the saddle, noting that Relph used one of the more comfortable saddles, ones used for those “too delicate” for the military issue. Those tended to be a lot more economic and not so… luxurious. This one even had padding – not too expensive, though. After he settled himself into the seat, he bent down to Jesa.

“This is so demeaning,” the mudang muttered as he grasped Teryx’s hands. The mounted male chuckled, swinging the raven-haired youth up into the saddle, in front of him. Jesa winced slightly at the landing, but he settled himself, not quite leaning back. The taller male’s arms went around the younger boy, grabbing the reins. Jesa felt the other boy’s body heat burning from his arms, almost like hot brands against his cooler body temperature. He felt so drawn to that warmth, that he could feel himself relaxing minutely in order to get closer to the heat.

It’s only a natural reaction, Jesa rationalized, ignoring any other fanciful part of his brain.

Teryx guided the horse out of the stable into the courtyard, the hooves clopping against the cement. The raven-haired boy closed his eyes, drinking in the warm sunlight, the slight breeze caressing his face. The rhythmic steps Bucephalus took were hypnotizing – Jesa felt loose and not there. He felt as if his sense of self had broken down from its crystalline structure into chaos, that perception reduced to mere sensation.

They passed through the gate into the surrounding lands, all which belonged to the Fenix family. The terrain was a bit hilly, a scattering of trees that merged into a large forest nearby. A river snaked into the dense foliage, washing over the rocks. A paved road led from the household into the distance, to Heim, the city nearby that held the actual headquarters for the Fenix Shipping Company. The fields surrounding were lush with tall grasses, bending in waves with the breeze. It was peaceful here, not like at the city.

This peace made Jesa feel as if he were nothing more than another soul under the sun, without any special privileges or rules – he just existed. He wanted nothing more than to just lean back and drink in the warmth from the light, but also from Teryx, but he didn’t dare. Jesa still didn’t know the rules, and he didn’t want to break them. Not when he found this moment of peace that he never experienced before – not even in the City of the Gods. There, he felt like an integral part of the universe, that he mattered – never as he didn’t matter, that he just was there and that was all. It was different kind of peace.

Teryx let Bucephalus go wherever, just keeping the mansion in sight. He also drank in the sunlight, but he was also taking in the presence of the raven-haired youth so close to him. He noticed that Jesa was still upright, back almost unnaturally straight. He rolled his eyes. Teryx had dragged the other boy out to relax, not to get stiffer! Although, the dirty-blond could think of other ways to relieve stress… he didn’t think the younger male would take too kindly to those ideas. He smiled a silly sort of smile, letting his thoughts drift away on the wind.

After several minutes, Teryx restrained a groan of frustration. The shaman was still upright and uptight. The dirty-blond debated the various paths of action he take and decided. He leaned forward, closing the distance himself.

“You can relax, you know. I can guarantee that this will be a lot more comfortable if you lose the posture just once,” Teryx murmured into the other boy’s ear. Jesa almost jerked forward in surprise but barely managed to control the impulse. The breath in the ear was not a nice technique; that was right out low and dirty, but the taller boy had a point. Jesa was feeling rather stiff from sitting straight the entire time, while wanting nothing more than to relax and lean back.

Well, since he’s asking… Jesa reasoned with his conscience and tentatively leaned back, cautious with every inch – no, centimeter. Finally, he was resting against Teryx, quite comfortable between the older boy’s arms, giving a sigh of contentment. Heat pressed in from all sides, wrapping him in a blanket of the softest fleece, balanced by the slight wind. This was just perfect. No ghosts to worry about, no gods to worry about… I’m just here. The youth closed his eyes, drawing strength from the semi-embrace. This is what heaven must be like.

They rode on, the palomino stopping every so often to nibble at the grass. Jesa wasn’t even surprised when he felt Teryx fit his chin on top of the younger teenager’s head. They fit like a puzzle; there was an utter completeness to the feeling. The youth was too relaxed to react to anything, feeling like a mold of molten honey. He snuggled closer, slipping into a half-conscious state, a creature of mere sensation. His last thoughts were barely coherent but still strong enough to understand.

Just let me stay like this forever.

Author Notes:

So… um… I put off uploading this chapter for… several months… mostly because I was massively writer’s blocked on the next chapter. But, I am determined to finish the next chapter. And try to see this story through. Chapters will probably come very slowly—college is quite the busy time for me, primarily from doing a lot of different theater productions and music ensembles.

Anyway, I hope you like how I made up for the shortness of the last chapter. This thing is too long. Then I had the waffy part at the end… I didn’t do too badly on it, did I? I was trying to simulate how I felt on those sunny days where you just lay outside in the grass and… yeah. Just relaxing.

I swear there will be plot in the next chapter. I swear.