Piras made several circuits around the room, inspecting the walls with his hands and eyes, tapping occasionally with the toe of his shoe. He spent a long time by the window, then the door, testing their give when latched. Looking at the walls again, he leaned into them and listened to how much they creaked. Sepher stayed out of his way, sitting on one of the beds and watching. Piras put on a good show of ignoring the probing eyes.

Eventually he stopped pacing out their accommodations and stood still, meeting Sepher’s gaze. He had a stern expression, greyed slightly with fatigue. The boy’s face was empty of opinion. He cleared his throat.

“This is will do for tonight. Not that secure, but it should be safe.” Pausing, the silence was voracious. He pushed his glasses up his nose with a couple of fingers, frowning now at Sepher. “Take off your shoes, why don’t you.”

The boy stared a moment longer before complying, bending over his lap to untie his shoes. He pushed them off and placed his feet on the floor. Unshod, he waited for further instructions. Piras strode around the boy’s bed and sat stiffly on his own, kicking his shoes off and bumping them under the frame. Still watched, his frown was now a glare.

“Let’s set some rules.” The boy stared, his back twisted to look at him from the far side of the bed. “Sit across from me,” you brat, he tacked on in his head. Sepher moved and sat down again. The beds were close together and their knees almost touched. Piras shifted sideways a few inches, then smoothed his suit down, ridding it of newly risen wrinkles. Maybe he should have let Sepher stay where he was.

Oh, to hell with it.

“First rule,” he began, briefly holding up one crooked finger before dropping it and tugging on his cuff, “you are never to leave my side. Get it? You are not allowed to be alone. This is Tukt’s orders, not mine. I am obligated to follow it as well.” He waited for an answer of comprehension from Sepher and got none. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Eating, sleeping, pissing, working. We’re going to be together, one way or another, until you get your license.” Sepher seemed to look through him and his fingers fidgeted more persistently with his cuff. “Sepher, do you understand?”

The boy didn’t startle so much as blink back to focus. His head bowed in a nod.

“I understand.”

“Good.” The silence tried to devour the space between them and Piras hurried along. “Second rule. I am your instructor now, so you listen to me down to the letter. Do what I tell you and don’t argue about it. It could mean your skin if you don’t.”

Another slight nod. Sepher’s hands had clasped over his knees, knuckles white. His attention had intensified, almost palpable.

“Third...” For a moment his eyebrows twitched involuntarily as he perished under the heavy stare. “Will you stop looking at me like that?” More blinking and refocusing, Sepher sat back slightly.

“What?”

“Don’t- Forget it,” Piras shook his head, chiding himself for his lapse in composure. If the kid knew that he could get under Piras’ skin now, there would be no end of it. “Third rule, don’t act independently of me. Even if you do, if you do something bad it’s going to reflect on both of us, and the Organization. If that happens, it’s all on me. When it’s on me,” he managed to lance Sepher with a hard look, “it’s going to be on you. Understand?”

It took the boy a little longer to nod this time. His blank expression had shifted into a vague frown. Piras was satisfied.

He went over a few more rules with Sepher, mostly harkening to common sense, but he didn’t want to give the boy any allowances. Sepher had made it perfectly clear before coming to Tukt that he didn’t invest much interest in common sense. As long as it was driven home that his transgressions wouldn’t be taken lightly, Piras figured it was worth the time.

The boy listened to him without any complaints. It was as a real student waiting on every word his teacher gave him, committing them to memory with silent devotion. Sepher didn’t need to blink much and it unsettled Piras, in turn bolstering him to further displays of prowess and authority. In a way he might have even enjoyed the situation but for the fact that he didn’t.

Piras didn’t know the first thing about being a guardian or an instructor. The headmaster had really sprung it on them when they’d come to assess Sepher’s aptitude. It was clear from the get-go he was born into it. No, it had all just been one of Pahper’s little tricks to tie the new boy into Tukt’s custody- Piras knew the system all too well. He’d only gotten out of it so many years ago himself.

But Piras wasn’t the same as Sepher. The boy needed intensive counseling, not initiation into the bloody Organization. After their little experiment to confirm his faculties Grayegen had said as much himself. “The boy’s an original. He wants to do it again. Did you see the way he was breathing...?”

Grayegen had been far more receptive, now that Piras thought of it. The big oaf always was, and not always to his advantage. What had he concluded at the end of the assessment? “He’s just a kid.” A kid. A kid who had a higher number than Grayegen and Piras combined, and they’d been working in the profession since... well, since Sepher’s age, and they hadn’t gotten any notches when they were that young, not for years.

Maybe Grayegen would have been the better choice. He’d been amused by Sepher’s standoffish behavior. Piras had suggested he was shell-shocked. Grayegen said he wanted to be left alone. Of course that meant he couldn’t be. His colleague had suggested that they starve him out of hiding. “He’s like a stray cat. You can try to feed them how you want, and they’ll always rather starve at first. After that, though, he’ll come on his own and we won’t have to look for him.” The man always did look at things as entertaining challenges. It had been Grayegen that Sepher spoke to first, after all.

No. Grayegen could barely take care of his own work, he was just too lenient to handle someone like Sepher. That was why Piras had volunteered, after all. It had to be one of them. It might as well have been him. And really, Sepher didn’t glare at him half as much as he had at Grayegen, when they’d all been together. It looked like the boy would relapse again if Grayegen didn’t shut up. Thankfully Sepher didn’t.

With Grayegen out of the picture, though, Piras was feeling far less resolved. He had wanted to protect Sepher from Grayegen’s sloppy personality- but who was he to think that Sepher needed protection at all? He was more than able to take care of himself, that was for sure. It had been a lapse in judgment, that was all there was to it. If he’d just let Grayegen take the boy, he wouldn’t have to worry about it. Let Grayegen get his head lopped off if that was his prerogative.

That wasn’t how it worked out. Piras found himself with a protégé, a glaringly blond adolescent... He’d never drawn so many eyes just walking into an inn than he had with Sepher at his side. Awful, just awful. He would have to talk to the boy about dying his hair dark so he’d be less conspicuous. The boy looked too foreign for his own good.

And there was that worry. Who was to say Sepher would even listen to Piras? He nodded now, mumbling an “I get it” now and then, but it could just be to appease him. At least where Grayegen was concerned, there had been no question as to whether the boy was really listening or not. Just taking one look at the dagger eyes aimed at the man’s stubbled throat could assure anyone of that.

Sepher hadn’t ever fixed such a vicious glare on Piras, that he could recall. Most of the time it had been Grayegen drawing the boy’s fire. A bizarre form of good cop, bad cop must have superimposed itself over them. In Grayegen’s presence the boy had been completely withdrawn and passively hostile. Around Piras he merely held a silent gaze, unsociable but neutral.

Kind of like right now.

Piras realized he’d trailed off and the silence had taken over again, gnawing on them down to the bone. Sepher was staring still, back straight, knuckles white, an unmoving epitome of attentiveness. If he kept that up for the duration of their partnership, Piras would go mad before he was middle-aged...

He shifted on his bed and took off his glasses, rubbing them on his sleeve. Looking away from Sepher the room was blurry and quiet.

“Well,” he said gruffly, the frown deeply embedded, “do you have anything to say?” The boy didn’t speak right away and Piras reluctantly put his glasses back on to look at him. Sepher’s head had tilted slightly, just a twitch.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Anything.” Pushing the glasses up to a comfortable position, scowling. “You can talk, you know. You don’t have to wait for permission.”

Eyes locked, the silence seemed to roar in Piras’ ears. Finally the boy spoke, shrugging.

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t mind... what?”

“Being quiet... I could always be quiet with you. That other guy...” The boy’s lip curled down before smoothing and Sepher’s eyes unfocused for a moment, remembering with distaste. He focused on Piras again, looking tired. “Grayegen talked enough for both of you, didn’t he?”

A snort wedged out of Piras and the boy’s mouth twitched again, this time in a slight grin. Flustered, Piras stood up from his bed and paced the floor. He wiped his mouth several times as though it would clear the smile growing there.

“Yes, Grayegen... He can really talk your ear off. You learn to tune it out after a while.” Sepher followed his steps from the bed, drawing his legs up and folding them.

“I won’t have to with you, though. Right?”

His aimless stalking had taken him to the window and he stopped there, looking out. Black night, only a few dollops of light from neighboring buildings. Another sniff of air through his nose fogged the glass a tint.

“Unlike Grayegen, I don’t find great pleasure in constant blathering.” Although too much silence was just as bad, he thought to himself. It wasn’t the silence so much that got to him, though, but the way Sepher kept looking at him in the middle of it. He didn’t want to turn away from the window and see that staring face again.

He had to get a hold of himself and stop acting so weak. That’s what Pahper had said, why a normal counselor wouldn’t be enough. “He needs somebody who will be able to understand his needs and to look to as a role model. Also, if we are to take as fact the possible danger he poses, it is important that the person working with him will be able to intervene, and show no fear...”

Piras wasn’t afraid of any brat, origins be damned.

Another length of silence had unraveled but Piras didn’t let it get to him this time. He turned away from the window, chin up and back rigid. As expected, Sepher was still watching. The boy had that unfocused, penetrating gaze again.

“What’s on your mind?” he demanded. “Speak up.”

At this Sepher shifted on the bed, his legs resettling beneath him and his hands unclasping to brace himself on the mattress. For once the boy glanced away from him and Piras’ bristling facade wilted a bit. It wouldn’t do any good to put Sepher out every time he looked on the verge to say something, otherwise there would be a lot of tension in the coming jobs.

It wasn’t his fault, he told himself. The boy never really wanted to talk to anyone, never mind someone he was bound to with little forewarning. Maybe if Sepher had indicated a preference he would have ended up with Grayegen, though Piras seriously doubted it. He just wanted to be left alone, Grayegen said. There was no chance for him to get that anymore.

Piras sighed, an aggravated blow of air, and went back to his bed. He sat down and started unbuttoning the jacket of his suit, then paused. The less time they spent lingering in the morning, the better. Buttoning it back up, he laid down and folded his arms under his head, staring at the ceiling, trying not to catch sight of Sepher in his periphery. The quiet was interrupted by shifting as Sepher laid himself down too, then it regained its potency. As an afterthought Piras reached over his night stand and turned out the lamp, dropping his glasses beside it in the motion. It was dark. The silence thickened.

At least, for a while.

“Piras?”

He didn’t respond right away because he’d never heard Sepher initiate a conversation before. Eventually he decided that it hadn’t been his imagination.

“Yes?”

Sepher seemed to be experiencing similar doubts, as he took a while to speak again.

“You don’t have any family in Deir, do you?”

Piras began to reply, “Why?” but stopped himself. Sepher had come from Deir, that faraway place. That was where the spontaneous manifestation had happened.

“No, I don’t,” he said slowly. He kept staring at the ceiling even though he couldn’t see it.

“No one... No one who might have moved there?”

“Not that I know of.” His eyes rolled over to where Sepher was lying and he thought he could see the boy’s hair, a faint glow. Way too conspicuous. “Why do you ask?”

It was a stupid question, really, and Sepher didn’t answer. Piras already thought he knew why. Even if it had been the case, though, it wasn’t as though he kept tabs on his family anymore. There would have been no way to find out. It wouldn’t matter. Why would it make a difference to Sepher?

He had the feeling that he was still being watched. It seemed magnified by the dark, Piras’ presumed ignorance taken advantage of. There had to be more to the question.

“Must be...”

“What?”

The bed creaked beside Piras as Sepher resettled, apparently not having expected a response. Guilty motions- but the sensation of probing eyes wasn’t relieved any. There was no way Piras could take this.

“Sepher.” He spoke louder than intended and nearly startled himself but kept his body still. The boy did the same. He wasn’t sure how to continue. To say something like “don’t look at me” would sound like overreacting, but was it really? It wasn’t just being looked at, it was being watched, analyzed, sized up...

He shouldn’t have put his back to the kid at the window. The recollection sent a chill through him, squeezing his gut. It had been more than disconcertion that put him there; a flaunt of confidence, a challenge to his new student, and Sepher had resisted. He didn’t need to say it but the silence was eating him.

“You’re going to be a Wendey, now. If you threaten the Organization, you’re going to get killed.”

Piras didn’t know the first thing about being a guardian or an instructor. All he knew were the facts that had come in that letter from Deir, written in a hurry and delivered a week late to Tukt’s headmaster. Another four days for Grayegen and Piras to be summoned, five days in the meantime for custody to be handed over and for the boy to arrive. The man who had come with Sepher all the way from Deir didn’t stay a moment longer than he had to. He was desperate to get away.

Sepher moved on his bed, propping up on his elbows perhaps, the faint glow of his hair moving. “You think I could manage that?”

“No,” he said firmly. “You wouldn’t stand a chance, not right now. I’m going to train you, though. You’re going to get good at it...” His eyes had adjusted to the dark in a subtle way. They looked at each other. “It’s not enough to be an original. You have to have some skill behind it to be effective.” Sepher might have been smiling but it was hard to say. It would have been the first time and Piras was glad not to see it.

“I was pretty effective back home.”

“Yes,” Piras muttered, “until they finally caught up...”

“They did,” Sepher agreed, sounding strangely nostalgic. Quiet.

“That is never going to happen again,” Piras said. Another unnecessary comment. The boy understood what had happened by now. Spontaneous manifestations were extremely rare, they couldn’t be brought on by sheer will. Piras had said it for reasons other than that.

“I don’t mind.”

“What?”

This was sounding familiar, but the similarities ended there.

“It was the best thing to ever happen to me. Even if I can’t do it again, I’ll always remember it.”

“You don’t feel- any remorse at all?” Sepher hummed something, a translation of amusement.

“You’d think that I would, wouldn’t you.”

“Yes,” he replied, his voice raising, “I would. It’s one thing to do it under orders- that’s your job- but these people were-”

“Friends, family,” Sepher spoke as though reciting a speech, “loved and hated, young and old. Completely innocent.” His voice was low. “I couldn’t help it, though. It felt so good, I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.”

The quiet that followed was stale and awkward. This would have been the moment for Piras to provide a guardian’s assurance, a welcoming confidante; or even something cold and blunt, the instructor’s lecture. All Piras could do was look at him, a light blob in the dark staring back at him, and he had a feeling the boy could see better than him even with the light out.

“Maybe one guy,” Sepher mused to himself, his voice tenuous and trailing off. Time passed and Piras thought that Sepher had gone to sleep. Very quietly the boy mumbled again, “Must be...” He stopped talking. The eyes bore into Piras from the dark but he didn’t say anything this time. Let Sepher think he was asleep. The brat was supposed to like quiet anyway.

The conversation was over but Piras couldn’t will himself to sleep. This was a mistake. There was no way he would be able to control this kid when it really counted, or even when it didn’t. Sepher was toying with him already, would take advantage of him. Execution didn’t matter so long as the path that led to it was rewarding.

He wasn’t afraid. Piras had dealt with far worse characters in greater numbers. And like Grayegen said, he was just a kid. It had been a matter of luck that he got so far in Deir. Out in the real world under real conditions, he was going to need every ounce of Piras’ guidance to manage anything of rivaling proportions and to get out of it in tact.

Sepher would become an excellent addition to the Organization if Piras succeeded. The boy had the right attitude. It just needed to be toned down, harnessed. Piras knew all about self-control. He would be able to help Sepher there, he knew. He only hoped that it wouldn’t have to follow the same route for Sepher that it did for him.

There it was again... Piras pinched the bridge of his nose, missing the weight of his glasses. This vague desire to protect the boy was going to be haggling with him for a good long while, he felt. Just because he had been appointed the position of caretaker didn’t mean he actually had to care.

If he didn’t, though, who would? Joining the Wendey Organization was extreme. It had been the boy’s only option. When Piras and Grayegen sat Sepher down to talk about it, he hadn’t asked any questions, made no complaints. He didn’t care what joining the Organization meant. Anything he might have cared about he’d already taken care of, but good. That negligent attitude would be stripped clean off soon enough. Piras knew that from experience. He hadn’t had anyone to sympathize with him, either...

The hair on his neck pricked, muffled by his pillow. He snatched his glasses off the night stand and put them on. The frame was cold on his face. Turning on the lamp, he looked over to Sepher.

“What the hell is wrong with you,” he demanded, “can’t you stop staring at me long enough to go to sleep?”

Sepher was sitting up again, cross-legged as before. He’d moved around without Piras’ notice and it made his throat dry. Too quiet, not even that ridiculous mop of hair had caught his eye. Maybe it was better not to dye it a mundane color.

The boy had been momentarily thrown off by the sudden wash of light but he recovered quickly. His mouth twitched, about to say something, and stopped. Piras glared at him as best he could. Sepher didn’t seem affected by it, quite the contrary.

“I can’t hurt you, you know.”

“What-” He got himself upright in a hurry and thumbed his glasses up his nose. Eyes narrowing suspiciously, “Can’t, or won’t?”

“Can’t,” Sepher confirmed. He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I guess I wouldn’t anyway, either.”

“And why is that?” Piras asked. Despite his efforts it came out offended. The boy’s lip quirked in a brief smirk, mild before going away. He looked away from Piras down at his hands.

“You should know,” he said.

Piras could think of any number of reasons why but none of them fit right. “You’re going to have to spell it out for me,” he said. Sepher rocked back slightly, his knuckles white on his knees.

“You can’t kill the dead, can you?”

“I’m not dead,” Piras countered without thinking. The boy shook his head.

“That’s the whole point. It doesn’t make any sense...” He looked up at Piras’ face again and almost flinched. Piras sat still, wondering at the reflex. Sepher’s expression changed, hardening. “I would never regret anything if I didn’t have to look at you every day.” A frown was growing out of the straight line of his mouth. “I still don’t, but it’s crazy. It’s like being haunted.”

“You think I’m a ghost,” Piras said, and Sepher shook his head again, the motion more jerky than before.

“You’re not dead. It doesn’t make any sense. You don’t even have any family there.”

A concentration of adrenaline seemed to blossom throughout Piras’ body. Things were starting to come together for him. Sepher had turned away again, scowling at the wall. It was an expression close to what the boy used to direct at Grayegen. Even now Sepher was sparing Piras. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Piras was supposed to be watching out for him.

“Sepher,” he said. The boy didn’t respond. He bristled slightly and spoke with more authority. “Sepher, look at me.” Slowly the boy did as told. Piras pulled briefly on his sleeves. “When you look at me, you had better be seeing someone who’s alive. Do you understand?”

“Is this another rule?” Sepher muttered, but Piras caught it.

“If it has to be,” he said. Sepher digested this. His next question came cautiously.

“Does it have to be you?”

Who else-

“No,” Piras answered with some delay. He spoke quietly. “As long as you follow my orders, I don’t care who it is... But it’s only for now. Don’t get me confused with- with whoever,” his voice became snappy, “and don’t you forget who I really am, or...” Or what? He would become something more than an instructor, more than a guardian? Wasn’t that a good thing?

Sepher was pleased, perceptible only in the intensity of his stare. “I’ll do whatever you say,” he promised, bordering on an enthusiastic vow. “I’ll never hurt you.” Never again. Piras rubbed at one of his temples, a headache growing.

“Stop talking,” he commanded, “and go to sleep.”

The boy laid back down immediately and Piras added, “And for the love of anything, stop looking at me, you brat.” Sepher’s face was lit with suppressed pleasure. He rolled over, putting his back to his instructor.

Piras felt an odd quietness in him that mirrored the room’s. Maybe it had been right that Grayegen didn’t take on the job. An unfair advantage, but Piras was willing to use anything that would help him to help Sepher. Even if it meant playing along with an immature superstition... He would grow out of it eventually. Until then Piras had to do everything he could. If it had been that easy for him, well...

He stared hard at the boy’s motionless body before forcing himself to look away. He took his glasses off again and turned out the lamp. Grudgingly he muttered, “Goodnight.” Sepher shifted on the bed beside his, keeping his eyes away. The smile on his mouth was audible.

“Goodnight, Dory.”