Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Stinking wonder boy,” I grumble, flopping down on Sophie’s carpet with a soft thump.

“Why do you hate him so much anyway?” Sophie asks, sitting lightly on her bed. “He’s just a boy.”

“But he’s not just a boy, he’s Fitz-fucking-Vacker. He has the ‘glittering teal eyes’ and ‘rippling biceps’. He just feels so… fake.”

Sophie frowns at me, her eyebrows creasing.

“What?”

*

I just don’t get it, I think to myself, pacing around my room. Why does Dex hate me so much?

I sigh. Okay, yeah, I get the jealousy thing, but we’re friends now. Generally, that fixes it. He knows I’m not that stereotyped person that everyone else sees.

…It would be nice to have more people to be close to.

*

We’re all heading home from Dex’s house, and by ‘we’ I mean: Biana, Sophie, Keefe, and I. I can feel Dex glaring at me as I hold my home crystal up to the light, and just as the others glitter away, I turn back to him.

“What is up with you?” I question, my crystal bouncing back to its customary spot on my chest.

“What do you mean?” Dex returns, his voice icy.

"Why do you hate me so much?”

“What are you- It’s not because- of course I don’t- IT’S BECAUSE YOU THINK YOU’RE ABOVE ME, OKAY? YOU AND YOUR FUCKING POSH CRYSTAL MANSION AND PERFECT FAMILY AND PERFECT LITTLE LIFE!” Dex is panting, staring at the ground. “I’m so sick of people who think they’re better than me!”

“I think you’re better than me,” I say quietly, fiddling with the edge of my cape.

He stops, his breath leaving him in a rush. “What?”

“Look at this place.” I gesture to Dex’s beautiful house, the yard worn from playing and running, the forest next to it, the mountains in the distance. “Every time I walk on this property it feels like home. And it’s not even my home! You can feel the genuine love you guys give off everywhere. Your family feels so whole. I wish I had a life like yours.”

Dex is staring at me, his periwinkle eyes wide, and I can feel a huge blush forming on my face. Before I can react, he’s hugging me, whispering and quiet ‘thank-you’ into my chest. When he lets go he won’t meet my eyes, but sends a haphazard wave my direction as he walks back to the house.

*

Suddenly, things are less awkward. Suddenly, things are simpler. I realize, a few weeks later, that I now laugh at Fitz’s jokes and will sit next to him and lunch. I realize that I’ve thrown notes at him in study hall and participated in inside jokes.

I’ll pick him first – to talk to, to pair up with, to be on the same team with. We’ve become actual friends. Even closer friends than some of the others. I like Fitz. It’s not forced. There was a barrier. It’s gone now.

*

Dex is glaring at the piece of paper in his hands so intently that I think it's going to catch on fire. I lean over his shoulder, and quickly scan the list of potential classes for the next two years.

“Having trouble?”

He jumps slightly and sighs, dropping the piece of paper. The edge is crumpled.

“I still haven’t picked my classes. Sophie and Biana are finished, but I can’t decide. Can’t quite figure it out. Can't think it though.”

“Well what do you have left? What are you deciding between?”

He lets out an incredibly long sigh. Not at me, thank god, just at the situation. “Well: alchemy, agriculture, and abilities are required, all of the a’s.” He smiles. “And for the last three I’ve already picked Elementalism and universe. But I can’t decide between species studies and gym and history and metaphysics.”

“Do you have a preference?”

He bites his lip. “None of them particularly interest me, but they all have benefits, I guess.”

“What about them?” I ask, leaning forward to scan his paper. He's circled the classes that he's already chosen, but the four he referenced are left completely blank. Except for a note scribbled in the margin - from Sophie, I'm assuming.

“Well: gym is good for your body, but I don’t like exercising that much. Metaphysics is good for your ability in the future, but only really benefits elemental abilities and telepathy, which I might not manifest. And history. I hate history. Fuck history.”

I laugh.

“Species study isn’t too bad, I guess. It can be interesting, and it’s really useful.”

I nod once.

He blinks at me, then smiles. “Okay. Species studies it is. Thanks, Fitz.”

I blink back at him, suddenly flustered. "Y-yeah. Of course."

*

This is bad this is bad this is bad.

I burst into the office, flinging the door open. It would be overdramatic if I wasn’t so completely terrified. Dad looks up at me, his eyes narrowed. “Fitz, why are you interrupting my work?”

“I heard people whispering.” My voice is shaking, my hands are shaking, I’m praying that nothing’s actually wrong. “What’s happening?”

He looks up at me, and for the first time, Dad doesn’t seem fake. People always describe the Vackers as fake. Because how could a perfect family with a hard-working father and lovely housewife mother be real? People wish to be us, then whisper behind hands about how the first son, with those eyes, must’ve been an affair and do you think they use elixirs to alter their appearances? Liars.

Well congrats, you’re right. We’re fake, fake, FAKE.

“Fitz,” he says slowly. “Sophie’s been kidnapped.”

My entire body starts to buzz, and somewhere, outside, far away, I ask, “have you told Dex?” Dex, Sophie’s best friend. Who’s going to tell Dex?

“Dex was kidnapped too.”

I feel like my entire body crashes to the floor. Like everything breaks, for a moment. I reach out to one of the plush chairs next to me and sink into it, the world spinning. Dad writes something else down, then stands, brushing his hand over my shoulder as he leaves.

“There’s no reason to worry.”

Liar. Fake.

I can’t remember much else; I just wake up the next day to hear people scrambling down the halls, rushing to unknown and unseen destinations. Biana is asleep next to me, her hair a mess and tear tracks down her face. Keefe is here too, snoring on the floor. I slide silently out of bed and into the hall, where Mom and one of the gnomes that help out – Fern – are talking quietly.

Mom rushes over, enveloping me in a hug. “It’s alright,” she says, her voice soft and arms warm. “We’ll find Sophie.”

And what about Dex?

*

When I wake up, I have a pounding headache, my side is burning, and I don’t recognize the room I’m in. Thank, fucking, god.

I reach down with shaking hands and push down the covers. I’m shirtless – the one I was wearing was burned away. And underneath it all is a mess where my side used to be. The skin itself is oddly artistic, curling and twisting, taking my pale skin and transforming it into this monstrosity of lumps and ripples and black. I can smell it.

“Dex?” Fitz appears over me, but before he can say anything his eyes lock on the burn and he's gone, down the hall.

Fitz, I think, head full. Everything is ever so slightly off, like I’m dreaming. My eyes flutter closed against my will, even as I hear footsteps. They’re loud, echoing through my fuzzy skull. I hear rustling, clicking, the snap of a conjurer.

“This... was Everblaze. This was a pyrokinetic. Something about the fire… it scars. It won't go away. I’ll do what I can, but it will sting.”

“I can help.” That’s Fitz. I feel a pair of warm hands wrap around my clenched fists, and crack open my eyes to see Fitz’s bright eyes and rumpled hair. I want to say something to him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

I open my mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a hoarse yell as cold and pressure and pain is put on my side. Fitz bites his lip, eyes glassy. He squeezes my hands tighter, tighter, as if doing that will stop both of us from breaking.

“I’m going to talk, okay? Okay. I’m going to talk because it’s going to make me less nervous and you’re probably curious what happened. Sophie’s alive. Yes, that’s important. She’s alive and it was close, but she’s getting better and Elwin’s pet, Elwin is the one treating your burns, by the way,” Fitz winces as I let out another groan. “Well this pet thing he can tell when an injury is fatal and he’s stopped freaking out so that’s good. It’s good. It’s okay. It’s good.

“The burn… Everblaze is different from other kinds of fire. Its scar won't go away. But we still need to fix the other parts of it. Elwin is going to put a shell on it that will protect it while it heals. Okay? Okay. Once this is done you’ll need to drink some water but then you can sleep again. We’ll have to put on more and you’ll need to drink some elixirs and stuff but everything should feel better. Okay.”

He looks crazed. I use the rest of my energy to give Fitz a small smile. “O-kay,” I say slowly, my voice raspy.

Fitz practically melts, a tear streaking down his cheek. “Okay.”

The second voice, Elwin, speaks up again. “Dex, you’ve done great. You have to drink this water, and then you’re free to sleep, alright? And Fitz, I’m going to check up on Sophie if you want to come.”

“No,” Fitz says, slipping his hands out from mine. He takes the water from Elwin and comes back over to me, uncapping the bottle. “I’ll stay here.”

The door clicks closed. Fitz sighs, his shoulders drooping. “You scared the living shit out of me, Dex.”

I smile at him, and attempt to sit up again. Fitz wraps his arms around my side and lightly, slowly, props me up to a sitting position. It feels like there’s a hard disk pressing into my side, but it’s easy to ignore as Fitz picks up the bottle, and, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to support me, helps me drink from it.

It takes a while, every couple of sips I break into a cough or two, which in turn sends waves of pain through my side. But as we get closer and closer to the bottom, it gets easier, the liquid filling me up. The relief makes me more comfortable, and in turn, more tired. As I down the last gulp, Fitz lays me back down, tucking the sheets around my torso. I hum quietly, already half asleep.

“Goodnight, Dex.”

I reach over blindly and take Fitz’s hand, squeezing it once before letting myself go.

*

Dex can barely walk. Sophie can barely stay awake for longer than ten minutes at a time, and I can’t stop dreaming. Dreaming of Sophie fading away into nothingness. Dreaming of everyone getting dragged away by cloaked figures while I watch, helpless. Dreaming of Biana screaming, Keefe sobbing over gravestones, of Dex, dying in my arms, because I was too late.

I give up, eventually, and head downstairs. Normally, at this time of morning, no one is awake – Mom sleeps in later than I do, and Biana hasn’t had a semblance of a sleep schedule since she’s known what a sleep schedule is. But we have guests, and Dex is sitting at the counter that we never use, eating strawberries.

“You okay?” I ask, sinking down into the chair next to him.

He ignores my question, instead offering me a strawberry with the top carefully sliced off. “Do you remember when Sophie first arrived? She would always complain about how she didn’t recognize the food. The first time that she saw strawberries and apples in the Foxfire lunch line she started sobbing in the middle of the cafeteria.”

I grin. “Is that when you reminded her that elves aren’t vegans and that Foxfire is just one of those fancy-fancy schools that sells posh food no one actually eats?”

Dex nods, smiling. I carefully bite into the end of the berry, savoring the sharp flavor.

“Have you seen Sophie yet?” I know it’s not a good question to ask, I get that it’s safe to swerve around it. I just hate sitting here, pretending that one of our closest friends isn’t half dead upstairs and that Dex doesn’t have a giant, permanent scar across his torso.

He sighs, one hand absent-mindedly coming to his side. “They’re scared it’ll set me back. No one will say it, but Elwin had a pretty loud conversation with my parents about it at my door. I think he did it on purpose so that I would know why no one will let me see her. They think that I’ll blame myself, and it will make my treatment take longer.”

Dex frowns, flicking a discarded strawberry head. “I’m just sick of that fucking room and the fucking cream. I just want to go home.” He starts and turns to me. “It’s not that your hospitality isn’t great but-”

“Dex,” I say, my voice heavy. “When I said that one time about how your house felt like home? I wasn’t joking.”

“I-” Dex sighs, leaning his head back. “I wish that I could deny it. But I know what you mean. I have to move all the time to make sure that the burn doesn’t shrink my skin so I wander everywhere. Every day: your dad is in his office. Your mom is in their bedroom. It makes me think about how my parents make us eat together, even though it makes a huge mess, and how it’s always noisy and people are always wandering around. One time, my dad posed for two hours so Mom could paint him, and she ended up hating it and spilling paint everywhere. But he just laughed and they cleaned it together and…” He trails off. “I miss home.”

“You’re the first person who has ever been that honest with me.”

He’s glaring at the strawberry in his hand. “You have eyes. You know what’s going on.” He smiles at me, finally relaxing. “You’re smart. I can see that.”

“Thank you.”

*

Foxfire finally deems it safe enough for everyone to return, which is a bit dumb as we only have two weeks left. By then, I’ve been pronounced fit enough to go back, as long as I keep doing my exercises. But Sophie… she can stay away the whole day, and walk around some, but she tells me how she feels she can barely think, like the world is crushing down on her. I hug her, when she says that. I ignore the fear rocketing through me, I ignore the constant ache on my side.

I should ask to switch to a lower locker – it hurts to stretch my arms this much. But I take a deep breath and slide each book into place. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Fitz leans on the locker next to mine.

“Hey,” he murmurs.

“Hi."

He watches me for a moment, then takes the books from my arms and easily puts them away. Fitz is observant – something I’ve learned about him, over time. I don’t know if anyone else has noticed.

“I know you’ve been taking the homework to Sophie. Could I come with?”

Deep breath in, deep breath out. I nod.

The leap master is always crowded, so Aunt Eda gave me a crystal directly to Havenfield. She said that it was long overdue, anyway. When I hesitate, staring at the beam, Fitz grabs my hand, accidentally crushing my fingers together, and pulls me into the light.

The crash of the waves is easily suppressed, but for some reason I still can’t walk.

“Dex?” Fitz questions, voice soft.

“I can’t do it again,” I say, my voice shaking. “Every time that I bring her the work she takes my hand and thanks me. ‘Dex, it’s so kind of you to do this for me.’ Do you know what she did right before we were taken? She took my hand, pulled me closer to the beach, and said, ‘You’re the best, Dex, it’s so kind of you to do this for me.”

I can tell Fitz feels out of his depth because there are tears streaming down my face and I’m shaking all over. “I can’t focus on Sophie, because I’m glancing around the room and I’m on fire and I want to run and run and run-”

I dump the pile of papers I’m holding into Fitz’s arms and scramble to pull my home crystal from where it’s tangled among the others. I try to pull them apart but my hands are shaking too much and fat tears are trailing down my face and-

Fitz is slow and calm amidst my panic, setting the pile down, untangling the cords with slow, practiced fingers. “You can tell her; you know? She went through it too.”

I should shut up. I should stop spilling my dirty incriminating secrets to Fitz but- “She was never awake.”

“What?”

“She wasn’t awake. She wasn’t brave. I was the one who couldn’t fall asleep, while she was passed out. I was the one that had to listen to people coming and going, the drip of the water in the background, the screams. I WAS THE ONE getting burned and tortured and marred and-”

My voice breaks and I attempt to pull away but Fitz has wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into him. He’s warm and stable and comforting. He’s here. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him too tight, burying my tears in his shoulder.

His hand is soft on my back. “I’m so sorry.” His voice is shaking too. “I am so sorry.”

“Me too.” I hold him like a lifeboat. “Me too.”

*

Time passes, as it does. The school year ends, summer arrives, and Sophie heals. Everything is fine. She’s offered to take all of us to a forbidden city, London. I’ve been here once before, so many years ago.

I saw Dex’s expression. I saw him stiffen, saw the fear flash across his face. When Sophie turned to him he muttered something about needing to help his parents in the store. He just told me, a few days ago, that his parents gave him the summer off to relax and be with us. But Sophie didn’t say anything, didn’t even notice, just grinned and nodded as Dex stared at the floor. Now we’re in London, minus Dex.

I try to tell myself that I’m still thinking of him, but London is so cool. Sophie buys us food and takes us around and shows us museums and sculptures and translates things for us. We walk around all day until our legs hurt then lay in a park to watch the sun set.

We’re all exhausted and full, but Sophie drags us along the streets, down the water, and points and… wow.

The elven world is beautiful, but the humans have this way of crafting light and metal that’s so unique, and the London Eye lit up at night is a whole new kind of breathtaking. We’re standing there, staring at it, and Keefe wonders out loud: ‘I wonder how?’

*

The bell for Slurps and Burps chimes lightly, knocking against the doorframe. The store is much like their home – full and cluttered and bright. I can hear voices in the back, so I wander through the twisted shelves towards them. Kesler and Juline are standing over a beaker, and as I watch Juline drops a ribbon of metal into it. It starts to fizz.

“Oh, hello Fitz,” Juline says, pushing away her goggles so she can see me properly. “Do you need help finding something?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call Dex a thing,” I say brightly.

Kesler laughs. “Straight upstairs, on the right.”

I thank them both, and push through to the back as they dissolve back into chatter. The stairs are covered with books of all kinds – some for chemistry and alchemy, of course, but others are fiction and more are cookbooks. There are only two doors at the top; the right one is slightly ajar.

Dex is sitting at a large desk, fiddling with something. I can hear metal clicking together and light humming. His hands don't pause when he says, “You can come in, Sophie. Neither my parents nor my siblings knock, so I’m more than used to people barging in.”

“That’s unfortunate,” I comment, and grin when Dex whips around, his mouth dropping open.

“F-Fitz! Oh! It’s good to see you! I, uh, wasn’t expecting you.”

“I guess not. I don’t have you on my phone and…” I trail of lamely, staring at my feet. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all.”

I hover in the doorway for a few more moments before Dex rockets to his feet. He grabs a random pile of books and scrap metal, revealing a plush chair. “I’m so sorry it’s such a mess. My siblings and I share it, and I’ve had all of this stuff on my mind and I like to tinker it helps and-”

“It’s okay,” I say, sitting on the edge. “I live with Biana, after all.”

He laughs awkwardly, returning to his work table. He picks up an ancient looking phone and frowns at it, swiping his finger across the screen. It flashes to life, the bottom section fuzzy. He sighs. I look around at the metal scraps all around the room, the piles of metal, the tools-

“Oh. You’re a technopath.”

Dex opens his mouth, closes it, then sighs. “Don’t tell my parents.”

“Then don’t tell my parents that I manifested as a hydrokinetic three months ago.”

“WHAT?”

“Fuck.”

Dex stares at me, his eyes wide. “You’re a…”

“Hydrokinetic and a telepath. Yes.”

“Oh.”

I wrap my arms around myself. “I tried to tell Sophie and Keefe, but for some reason… I can’t. I don’t know if it’s because I don’t want to hear what they think, about their stereotypes, or I want it to be my thing, or…” I shake my head.

Dex leans against the wall, running his fingers through his hair. It's getting long. “I know what my dad will say when he finds out I’m a technopath. It’s not bad, at all, actually. He’ll be so proud. But after so much time hearing about how abilities are sacred in the elven world, something is so nice about just doing whatever the hell I want.” He gestures at the mess on his worktable, smiling softly.

“When I was young, all I wanted was to be a telepath like my dad. As I got older, I didn’t want to. But I did it: I manifested as a telepath. He was so proud. But telepathy is extra lessons on the weekends and ripping secrets from people’s brains and working for the council and ignoring boundaries. But being a hydrokinetic is… fun. That’s all it is. That’s all I want it to be. I don’t want rules and expectations to smother my love.” I sigh, running a hand down my face. “And don’t even get me started on the elemental ability stereotypes.”

Dex doesn’t say anything, just watches me, hands working on something else.

I look down at my hands, slowly closing my fingers into fists. “I should really tell someone.”

“Ah, so I don’t count as someone?”

He hasn’t moved from his position, expression carefully blank in contrast to his icy tone. He crushes the coil that he’s holding. “No, Dex-”

“Oh, by the way, how was London, huh?”

“Dex!” I stand, poking him in the chest. “Stop being a shit. You are someone, and nothing can change that. That is not what I meant. There’s just…" I slump slightly, vigor gone. "There’s a list of people I should really tell. My family, of course. Keefe: we knew each other back when we both first manifested. And Sophie has multiple abilities so she might be able to give advice or something.” I shake my head. “It’s not that you’re less of a person, it’s that you’re easy to tell. Safer, in a way.”

And Dex is staring at me with his mouth open, looking taken aback, his eyes wide. I feel a wave of embarrassment, but all he does is lean forwards and hug me tight, his hands clenching the fabric of my shirt.

“It was shitty of me to bring up London, I’m the one who turned it down.”

“It scares you, doesn’t it? The cities?”

He nods slowly, face against my shoulder. “It’s everything. Everything reminds me. My whole body freezes up, and I go into fight or flight. It's like my body shuts down.”

I push him away from me so I can see his face. “That’s what happened when we went to take the work to Sophie, isn’t it? You froze.”

He won't meet my eyes. “Yeah.”

I step back to flick one of the scraps on his desk. “Wanna tell me how the London Eye works, Mr. Technopath?”

He grins brightly, practically jumping away from me to grab a sheet of paper. I suddenly regret my decision, but the glowing smile on his face makes it worth it. I just want him to be okay. I just want him to be happy.

*

It’s always chilly here – even in the summer. When Mom gets stressed, she coats the property with snow. She’s powerful, but even for her that takes a lot of energy. It feels good to drain all of your stress into one huge clump, growing it bigger and bigger, and then watch it explode. The moonlight is making the frost sparkle.

The screen of my phone is too bright against my sleepy eyes. I ping Sophie, and ask her to talk to the others. I hit send with a slight frown. Fitz’s name sits just under hers; I called him a couple days ago so he would have my number. My fingers hover over the keypad.

Dex: I just texted Sophie about this, but I thought I should just tell you directly too. My mom put some snow over the ground so if you want to come over tomorrow to have a snowball fight and sled and stuff you can.

Fitz: what do you mean you texted Sophie?

Dex: I wanted to invite everyone over, and I don’t have everyone’s numbers. I have yours, (duh) but if I just asked her to invite Biana and Keefe it would sound like I’m excluding you.

Fitz: I see

Fitz: what am I in your phone

Dex: …Fitz?

Fitz: Biana has me as Fitzy Bitsy

Fitz: Keefe won’t tell me what he has me as right now so it’s probably a joke but it used to be That Guy™

Fitz: Sophie says it’s just Fitz but blushes every time so I don’t really believe her

Fitz: Oh and also I asked Keefe and he said that it’s not Fitz but he won’t tell me

Dex: I know what it is and I support that decision

Dex: Sophie has me as Dizznee Land, which is weird and apparently it’s something from the cities but I don’t get it

Fitz: that’s… actually kind of funny

Dex: what is it?

Fitz: It’s hard to explain

Fitz: Sophie has some pictures she can show you

Fitz: Okay I have one for you

Dex: Ok??

Fitz: *ahem*

Fitz: The Dexnopath

Dex: …

Dex: Alright fine. But don’t let anyone see it.

Fitz: YEA

I shake my head, laughing. For reference, Sophie’s contact for Fitz is something along the lines of ‘most beautiful wonderful handsome guy ever’. It’s sad. Look back on it a year later and cry from embarrassment sad. We’ve all collectively decided not to tell Fitz to save her from the worst of it.

Fitz: alright Dexnopath, what’s mine?

Dexnopath: uh

Dexnopath: I have no idea

Dexnopath: I’ve never had to do this before Sophie is literally Sophie in my phone

Fitz: wow

Fitz: well tell me if you come up with anything I gotta go to bed

Fitz: OH AND YES TO SNOW I LOVE SNOW

Fitz: YES

Fitz: YES

Fitz: YES

Dexnopath: oh my god okay

Dexnopath: goodnight

Fitz: goodnight

I smile and close my eyes, letting my hand fall to my chest. I hum quietly, letting the pale moonlight and hum of technology wash over me.

It’s quiet.

*

“Could have at least said hello,” I say to the back of Fitz’s head. He showed up, early, and immediately face planted in the snow.

He rolls over and looks up at me. His eyes are blue, blue, blue compared to the bright white ground. His hair is tousled, with perfect flakes stuck in it, and he’s staring up at me with this adorable grin, like all of his dreams have come true.

“I love snow,” he says, scrambling to his feet and running over to poke the powder off from some of our plants. “It’s so pretty and soft and shiny.”

I laugh, walking over to join him.

“The best part,” Fitz says, taking a deep breath, “is this.” He spins his hands, and a bundle of snow rises off of the ground. He doesn’t hold it up for very long, but his eyes are shining with pride and he’s panting.

“But… water?” I ask lamely, still captured in Fitz’s proud smile.

“I can’t create snow and ice like Frosters can, but I can control it. I think if I get good enough, I can switch water to ice!”

I laugh at Fitz’s bright smile, and pick up a ball of snow and throw it at him. He stops it with his ability, and grins proudly.

“Come on,” I say, rolling my eyes, “no abilities.”

Fitz sticks his tongue out at me, then promptly hits me straight in the face with a snowball. I retaliate with two more. He manages to dodge one, but the other one hits him in the side. We continue to throw back and forth, and I eventually pick up a giant pile of snow in my arms and cover him with it.

We’re collapsed on the ground, laughing, both covered in snow. He looks so radiant. His eyes are bright and glowing, his hair completely soaked, a floppy black. There’s a lovely pink flush on his face, and he’s staring straight at me.

I open my mouth to say something, but just then I hear the telltale sound of others glittering in. Biana cancelled – she was sick yesterday and doesn’t want to make it worse – but Sophie and Keefe had agreed.

I lightly pick up a snowball and throw it at the two of them. It runs short, but gets the desired effect, because Keefe grabs two fistfuls of snow, lets out a war cry, and rushes at us. I have a temporary alliance with Fitz, but he breaks it when he pours cold snow down the back of my shirt. Sophie, inevitably, trips and face plants into the ground.

Everyone is dripping wet and cold and happy. Sophie and I are laying in an undisturbed patch of snow while Keefe and Fitz attempt to make a snowman – a concept that Sophie had just introduced them to a few minutes ago. I dutifully offered my hat up for Gerald’s head, apparently, while Sophie’s scarf was forced from her.

“I didn’t notice you and Fitz were so close,” Sophie says, glancing over at me.

I frown slightly. “We finally got over that first barrier. It’s nice.”

“You were smiling more than I’ve ever seen you.”

I falter slightly, but am saved by Keefe pronouncing Gerald the ruler of all and crowning him with my soaked and muddy hat. I applaud while Sophie groans loudly.

“Hot chocolate, anyone?” I ask, getting to my feet. I take their grunts as yesses, and lead the sagging four of us inside. Whenever Mom adds snow to the grounds like this, it cools down the entire house, so there’s generally a pot of hot chocolate on the stove.

I serve up a couple giant mugs for everyone and we collapse onto the sofas, content to drink in silence. Fitz is next to me, while Sophie and Keefe have taken one of the chairs and the other sofa, respectively. The entire sofa, mind you. He’s much taller than all of us, so spread out his feet hang over one side.

I snag a blanket from the floor and wrap it around my shoulders. Before I can protest (not that I was going to), Fitz takes the other end and wraps it around himself, inching much closer to me in the process. I smile into my drink and take a long sip, letting my eyes flutter closed.

“Look,” I whisper to Fitz. “My mom’s putting down another layer.”

The snow turns in perfect curves, catching the light as it falls. It’s beautiful, completing the quiet aura we’ve created here – playful exhaustion, warmth, friendship. I lean further back into the couch and sigh, content.

*

Dexnopath: I’ve got one for you.

Fitz: one??

Dexnopath: a name

Fitz: a contact name?

Fitz: tell me

Dexnopath: alright

Dexnopath: …snowfall

Fitz: oh

Fitz: I love it

Dexnopath: I’m glad, snowfall

*

I hate opening ceremonies. People can make speech after speech about how important it is and what it represents, but at the end of the day, it’s just a bunch of kids in ugly costumes dancing.

Keefe skipped, shockingly, so I try to pick out the others in the row in front of us. There are hundreds of kids milling about, blocking each other, I spin around-

Dex. He’s looking up, eyes wide, as the flakes starts to fall. He laughs and spins, completely unbothered by the weird outfit he’s wearing and the people around him. The harsh orange light filters softly through his hair and his eyelashes, making them glow bronze. I watch, entranced, as white paper flutters by him, like a perfect piece of snow.

Snowfall.

*

Sophie is pacing back and forth, hands tangled in her hair.

“The last time I was over there, he called me a child and was so mad…”

So he’s being a shit and you should leave him alone, I think, trying my hardest not to roll my eyes. Sophie tries, really hard. And I can respect that. But sometimes in her desperation to try really hard she forgets that sometimes people just need fucking space.

“…so obviously he’s hurting so much, and needs to be comforted.”

By anyone but you, Soph. This is just going to hurt you and make Fitz feel guilty. But like a true best friend, knowing full well that Sophie will never listen to my warnings, I say, “I’m coming with you.”

“But, Dex…” she mumbles, sitting on the end of her bed.

“Sophie, Fitz is angry and upset. You need some backup.”

And someone to pick up the pieces when all of this goes to shit. …Why am I letting you do this again?

Sophie stares at me for a moment, but lets out a reluctant sigh. “Fine. But let me talk.”

“I’ll let you start.”

She’s not paying enough attention to hear my deflection, her mind already at Everglen with Fitz. I dutifully follow her upstairs to the leap master, into the light, and onto the grounds. The gates are blinding, as always, and make Sophie flinch.

Biana is staring very intently at the floor, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her hair, normally straightened, is curly and huge around her head. Her eyes are wide and fixed. The other one, Alvar, I think, is reading a book, clutching it so hard that he’s leaving dents in the cover. And Fitz… is starting straight at us.

His eyes narrow when he sees Sophie, but as his gaze slides over to me he starts to look… desperate. Fitz is showing wear and tear just like his siblings – red rimmed eyes, puffy faces, messy hair and rumpled clothes – but something about him just looks lost.

“Fitz?” Sophie questions softly.

“What are you doing here?” Fitz asks. I expected anger, but this is just exhaustion.

“I want to talk. Try to help.”

“You’ve done enough.” There’s the anger. But as his eyes slide over to me once again, he continues. “Sophie please go. Please.”

But she keeps going. “Fitz, if you need to blame me, go ahead-”

“I didn’t realize I needed your permission, Sophie. I BET YOU THINK YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD, HUH? WHAT I’M FEELING?” He gets bigger, louder, like all of this mad was coiled up inside of him and now it’s striking.

“W-we went to, to Exile without y-you,” Sophie manages to choke out, shrinking in on herself.

“NO. IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE BROKEN AND MESSED UP AND-”

“That’s enough.” I state it calmly, like Fitz wasn't just screaming. He immediately breaks, turning away in on himself. Neither of his siblings have moved.

“Sophie,” I murmur, turning towards her. “Go home, okay? Fitz needs space. I shouldn’t have let you come over here at all. Go and get some rest, eat something. I can deal with this, alright?”

She looks like she wants to say something, but runs her hand through her hair and nods slowly. With shaking hands, she unearths her home crystal and turns to leave.

I lay my hand lightly on Fitz’s shoulder. “Fitz?”

He straightens and walks past me, towards where Sophie disappeared. I think that he’s following her, but he hovers in the doorway and turns back to me, like he wants me to follow him.

“What’s going on?”

He doesn’t answer. His head is held high, but his whole body is shaking. There are tears welling up in the corner of his eyes, but they don’t fall. He walks us across the property and towards the forest, down one of the paths. After a few minutes, we step off of it, and start to weave through trees. I’m about to ask him where we’re going when we break into a clearing.

It’s beautiful.

A pond whispers to one side, taking up a good third of the clearing. Crystal clear water sparkles in the early sun rays, only broken by a few scraggly rocks and a single lily bud. Two bright koi fish flit under the water, and a frog suns on one of the rocks. There’s a set of metal and glass table and chairs, bright lights strung through the trees above them. A woven hammock sways in a corner, an old book discarded in it.

“Oh,” I say.

“I told the gnomes about my ability. I trust them. One of them, Fern, made me this. So I could practice in secret.” He sounds so sure until he collapses to his knees by the pond, sobbing into his hands. “I tried Dex, I tried.”

I wrap my arms around him, too tight, letting all his weight fall on me. He’s warm.

“I know it wasn’t her fault. I know she didn’t do anything but I asked her to leave I begged her to leave but she kept pushing and pushing and I broke. It’s so easy to blame her because she was there and because she knew something was going on because-” his voice cracks, and he buries himself deeper into my chest.

“I saw you try. I saw you. It isn’t fair to ask you to balance all of your emotions at once right now.” I rub my hand up and down his back.

“It’s not just my dad. It’s that telepathy hurt him. After all of those years of telling us how amazing telepathy is and how much we should want it, it’s what’s killing him. What does that mean for me, Dex? What does that mean for me?”

“You are not your father.”

He clenches my shirt. “He’s a bad person.”

“Alden?”

“He’s not a good person. He’s not a… he’s a bad parent. But he’s dying. And I hate him sometimes, but now he’s dying. I don’t want him to die but I want him to leave and this just doesn’t feel right why am I relieved? I shouldn’t feel good about this.”

“Fitz,” I whisper. “You don’t have to know. Right now, it’s just us. The fish and the frog and the plants and us. You don’t have to know anything or be anything.”

He sighs into my shirt.

“Breathe, Snowfall, it’s just us.”

*

It’s cold. It is midnight and it is fucking cold. Sophie and Keefe have been gone for hours now, and we have no clue when they’re going to get back. It was Biana’s idea, and I did agree, but now she’s asleep on her brother and not suffering. About an hour in I escaped home to grab us more blankets and some hot chocolate because it is so fucking cold.(the hot chocolate was requested after the snow day) (it’s Dad’s recipe, but Mom says I’m the best at making it) (after Aunt Eda, of course).

“I can’t believe this,” Fitz groans, flopping onto my shoulder. Biana doesn’t even stir.

“That Sophie went off with Keefe?”

“That they just left. No message, no text, they just took Silveny and left. Thanks for remembering your friends, guys.”

“You’re not mad because it’s Sophie and Keefe?”

“What? No. It was the logical choice – we fought, and Keefe is the only one that Silveny doesn’t hate besides Sophie.”

“You don’t? …Never mind.”

“Like her back? Am mad that she went with the other ‘eligible bachelor’ and not me?” He glances over at me and grins at my surprised expression. “Sophie’s not exactly subtle, not to mention I found the contact and… well. I know that Keefe flirts with her a bunch, so I can see that, but I just… don’t think of Sophie that way. She’s more of an annoying younger sibling than anything else.” He nudges my shoulder. “And you don’t give yourself enough credit. Keefe and I aren’t the only ‘eligible bachelors’.”

I laugh quietly, ducking my head to hide my blush. “If you ever have to tell her, I recommend not using those words.”

“I think you’re right.”

I’m full of hot chocolate, warmed from the inside out. Fitz is sure and soft against my side, humming quietly as he scans the horizon line. We’re wrapped under a fluffy blanket, looking up at the stars, the night is brisk and cold and just sharp enough. All I want to do is lean my head on Fitz’s shoulder and say:

I love you.

*

WHAT.

*

“What are you doing in here?”

Dad flicks his eyes up for half a second and continues writing. “Morning, Fitz. I’m getting some work done.”

I scan my father’s face – the thin line betraying the nasty cut that he got only a few weeks ago, the permanent eye bags. Frown lines and wrinkles etched into his face, marks that he really shouldn’t have.

“You said you were taking a break.”

I was so happy when he said that – Mom and Dad don’t talk. Dad is incredibly well respected, if he ever asked to drop a case or change his schedule, no one would even blink. But still, he sleeps at work and practically lives in his home office and is always, always working. I was hoping that this ‘break’ would give them a chance to reconnect. If it’s broken than it’s broken. If it’s fine than show it, damnit.

“I had a few forms.”

“That’s not a break.”

Dad purses his lips, setting down his pen. “It’s like relaxation for me. You know I love working.”

“More than you love your family? Your wife?”

“Excuse me?”

I plant both of my hands onto his desk, eyes narrowed. “When’s the last time that you and Mom had a conversation that was more than three sentences? That didn’t have anything to do with work and the fact that you wouldn’t be coming home that night? When? When’s the last time you two went on a date? When’s the last time we ate dinner as a family? Since we’ve had a heart to heart? Since you and Biana even talked?”

“FITZROY AVE-”

“DO YOU LOVE WORK MORE THAN YOUR FAMILY?” The glass of water to my left shatters, exploding all over the desk… and my hand. I’m too angry to even feel it, numb to the world around me. I shoot one last glare at Dad, watery blood streaking down my fingers, and turn and walk away.

In some last ditch effort for comfort, I glitter onto Dex’s front lawn. I pinch my nose on his doorstep, frantically trying to calm my panicked breathing. I squeeze my eyes tight, leaning against one of the posts. I scratch my cheek and leave a smear of blood across it. My hands are shaking.

“Fitz?”

I open my eyes just in time to see Dex notice the blood. “Hey, stranger.”

He sits me down on the bathroom counter and pulls out a selection of elixirs, shaking his head.

“What did you do?”

I blink, surprised at the sharp anger in his voice. “I broke a glass.”

He grabs a pair of tweezers and starts to pull out the shards. “On purpose?”

“It was the hydrokinesis. I was so mad. It just happened.”

“Just happened?” He glares at me. “You have to take care of yourself.”

I blink, surprised. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

His thumb brushes over my wrist, the moment so soft it makes me shudder. He continues his work. It’s painful, but methodical. The clink of metal against glass, a sting, a clatter as the shard falls into the sink. Over and over. One by one. The light reflects off of the glass.

He sighs, shoulders finally dropping, voice no longer angry. “What were you so mad about?”

“When my dad woke up yesterday, he promised that he was going to take a break. No working, no stress. Give him a chance to lay around – read a book, watch a movie, maybe even go on a date with Mom. This morning, I went to find him. I don’t know exactly why I wanted to see him – to just say good morning, or because I was afraid of exactly what happened. He wasn’t in his bedroom, or the lounge, or the kitchen, or the library. No, he was in his office, working.” I shake my head, finally letting the tears well up in my eyes.

“I asked him why. I was hoping that he was just doing something personal, not the very thing he promised us he wasn't going to do. The thing that broke our family. All he told me was that he ‘loves to work’.” I take in a shaky breath. “I asked him if he loves work more than he loves our family. There was a water glass next to my hand. It shattered.”

Dex sets down the tweezers and grabs a bottle full of pale blue liquid. “I’m going to pour disinfectant on this. It’ll sting.”

I watch, numb, as the liquid traces over my hand. It pools in the cuts, making my skin tingle. Dex turns on the tap and rinses the excess off, lightly rubbing my hand with his thumb.

His eyes flick up to mine. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“I know. But I’m sorry this happened to you. You don’t have to go home, if you want. We can organize something – a sleepover maybe.”

Another elixir knits the skin back together until there’s no remnant of the entire situation. My voice breaks. “Please.”

*

I scrub the pan again, staring as soapy water washes down the drain. Sophie grunts softly as a spare spatula knocks against her scar. She huffs, staring at it, then resumes wiping down the counter. The parents agreed to the sleepover - once we promised Uncle Grady and Aunt Eda that we would make sure that Sophie and Keefe didn’t overexert themselves. We drew straws for the dishes. When Sophie got picked (even with everyone’s protesting), I volunteered to go too. Played if off as it being my house, my responsibility, wanting to help out a close friend. Something like that.

My hands still. “Can I ask you something?”

She doesn’t even falter. “Of course.”

I take a deep breath, gripping the edge of the counter so I won’t shake. “What do you know about guys liking guys?”

She stares at me for a moment, then slowly sets the rag into the sink. She wipes her hands off on her shirt and turns, walking towards the door. “I’m going to go grab something from my house, alright? I’ll be back in ten.”

Unsure if she even heard me, I helplessly pick up the rag she dropped and finish wiping down the counter.

When Sophie returns, she’s glaring intensely and carrying a bag. I’m dragged upstairs and sat down, smushed between Keefe and Fitz.

Sophie has a huge binder and I am scared.

It has tons of sections, each labelled with calligraphy – I didn’t even know that Sophie could do calligraphy! The girl’s handwriting is terrible! But she’s very proud of it, and strokes the page lightly before launching into a speech. A SPEECH.

Terms for attraction. The difference between romantic attraction and sexual attraction. More kinds of attraction – aesthetic and sensual and other ones I can’t even remember. Gender and sex and their fluidity. Different kinds of relationships – polysexual, QPRs, everything in between.

We’ve heard of this before, but not to this extent. We all look equally shocked, and she looks sorta proud of it. Keefe pulls the binder away from Sophie and him and Biana start flipping through the pages and pages to read all of the definitions they can find. Fitz is just staring at the floor, and Sophie is digging vigorously through her bag.

“What about you?” I ask lamely. She winks at me, producing a huge flag. It’s blue and pink, with a thin purple stripe through the center.

“I, sir, am bisexual.” She grins brightly and throws the flag over Fitz. He yelps, jumping out of his stupor and scrambling to unearth himself from the fabric. He gives us such a dazed expression that Sophie and I immediately burst out laughing.

“Have you talked to anyone else about this?” Biana questions, glancing up.

Sophie frowns. “Twice. The first was with Tiergan. He and his wife and Prentice – they were all together. All bisexual, actually. The first few people that talked about Wylie ending up with Tiergan said it so shamefully – like it was forced on Tiergan, like he wasn’t Wylie’s father and never really would be. But Tiergan was always Wylie’s Dad, just as much as Prentice and Cyrah were.”

We sit in silence for a moment. Sophie nods. “The other was Bronte.”

“Councilor Bronte?” Biana exclaims.

Sophie nods. “He was very articulate. Explained to me how focused the elven world is on bloodlines: ancient and disproven ideas on purity, the discrimination of twins, the idea that everyone should have kids, and only a certain amount. So many rules. They’re ignorant of what people want, and ignorant of overpopulation. I was told once, when I arrived, that elves could make anywhere hospitable. Not only is it pretentious, no one wants to live on the fucking moon!”

She’s furious, and lets out a long breath of air. Her flag is sitting in her lap, and she runs the fabric between her fingers, examining the stitching. “It’s complicated. But sometimes it feels like it really shouldn’t be.”

We all nod slowly.

Keefe breaks the silence, his voice tight. “It’s never been a stretch for me to identify as pan or bi or just liking anyone regardless. But I’d never heard of any of these gender terms before.” He reaches out and brushes the top of the binder. “I think I’m non-binary. I don’t know why it feels like that, I don’t know if it’s because I’ve never agreed with any of those ‘that’s just what men do’ or ‘that’s just what women do’ or because no gender roles ever made sense to me. Maybe it’s just because I already think gender roles are dumb. But this feels right. It feels good.”

Keefe still seems nervous, rubbing the back of their arms, but Sophie is grinning brighter than the sun. She tackles Keefe, collapsing with her head in his lap. “You’re amazing, Keefe, amazing. Being enby is so cool! You can use any pronouns you want, and just say a double fuck-you to gender roles. I’m glad that you feel safe enough to tell us.”

Keefe is finally smiling too. “I’d like to try they/them pronouns, if that’s cool.”

“That’s so cool,” I say, reaching over to ruffle their hair.

Keefe glares at me, but Biana leans in front of them to pick up the binder. “Soph, can I borrow this? I want to look at a few more terms.”

“Of course. Just don’t lose it.”

She sits up suddenly, almost slamming her head into Keefe’s. “One more thing. I’m going to go sit out on the balcony. If any of you want to come talk to me about this, then we can talk. I get that not everyone is ready to put their nerves out in the open. I’ll wait.”

Keefe, Biana, and Fitz start bickering over movie choices – there’s all of the classics, but Sophie has managed to smuggle over a bunch of CDs over the years. I’ve already re-wired our TV to accept them. I add my opinions for a few moments, but eventually slip away to the balcony.

“To be honest, I was expecting Fitz first.”

I pull her blanket around me too. “It’s a scary thing to talk about, especially in situations where you don’t feel safe. My parents are great, all around, but some aren’t. It gets even worse when you’re one of those identities that no one knows about until someone like you comes to educate us.” I smile at her. “I’m glad you did.”

We sit in quiet for a moment. I wrap the blanket tighter.

“So Dex, what do-”

“I like guys.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Sophie nods. “Yeah.”

“You knew?”

“Maybe I guessed. I pinned you as ‘not straight’ and didn’t go farther than there. My sister could do specifics in a heartbeat. I can just get gay. By gay I mean anywhere on the LGBTQ spectrum. I could say trans, and they would be aro. Still technically LGBTQ, but definitely not close. Also you pretty much said that in the kitchen like twenty minutes ago.”

I hum in response, laying my head on top of Sophie’s. (Generally people just lay their head on the other’s shoulder, but I’m a good head and a half taller than Sophie, so that doesn’t really work. Then she can generally lay her head on my shoulder and pretend that it was her idea all along.)

“I can’t tell if I’m gay or bi or pan or whatever. I’ve never really felt a need to define any of it. Sometimes I can’t tell if it’s even romantic attraction or not. I’ve definitely liked a guy, and I’ve had a thing for a girl, but it might not have been romantic. It just…”

“You don’t have to know.”

“I…”

She turns to stare me down. “You do not have to know. It’s okay.” She kisses me lightly on the cheek. “You’re brave, Dex. I’m proud of you.”

*

This was not what I was expecting. Sophie has lectured us about human things before – Disney, food, memes - mostly joking. This… is different. This is serious. This is big. This is complicated and important.

This hits a bit too close to home.

I watch. Watch as Keefe comes out as non-binary and pan. Watch as Biana examines each term, borrows the book, her brow furrowed. Watch as Dex comes in from outside, expression bright. He meets my eyes for a moment, and smiles. It takes me aback – the softness of it. It leaves me stuck, for a moment, but eventually I can stand and go outside to join Sophie.

“I told Dex I was expecting you first.”

I stiffen. “Why?”

“Because I was.”

I perch on the edge of the bench, tight, wrapping my arms around myself. She watches me for a moment, then throws the blanket around me and pulls me closer towards her. I force myself to relax, leaning back a bit and examining the tree line.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” she comments, fingering the frayed edge of the blanket. “But not horrible.”

“I’m glad.”

She nods, knotting two of the frays together. She tries to tie a bow and fails.

“I don’t like you back.”

Wow. I really did not mean to say that.

“I know.”

“What?”

She shrugs a shoulder. “I didn’t have much of a crush you either.”

“Keefe?”

“What, you think flying pressed up against them on an alicorn for two hours made me fall in love with them? Okay now that I say it I can see what you mean, but... I don’t think so. I was in denial about being bi for a while. I knew it was right, but I wouldn’t even let myself consider having a crush on anyone but guys. I saw you, and my brain went: ‘great, here’s a hot guy. Fall in love with him and you’re fine’. I overcompensated. After a while I realized that you’d never like me back anyway.

“Why?”

“First, you see me like a sister. Second, I don’t think you like women. Third, I think you’re in love with someone else. The crush wasn’t very strong in the first place, so it didn’t take long to fizzle out either. It was more of an obsession than anything else.” She makes a face.

“You think that I’m in love with someone?”

She ignores me, turning to place a hand on my arm. “We’re here to talk identity. Do you want to talk? Are you ready? You don’t have to be sure. I promise.”

“Really?”

“Here – I’ll tell you a secret. I think that I might be a demi-girl and use they/she pronouns. But I’m too scared to tell anyone. Does it matter that Keefe just came out as non-binary? Nope. Because I’m still scared. And I don’t know why! But does that make me less valid? Nope. Does that make me less non-binary? Nope. Does that mean I’ll never tell anyone ever? Definitely not. Take it as it comes.”

“You’re good at this.”

“I’m stealing all of my sister’s advice.”

I laugh. “It was always a bit off. When I was young, it was the Vacker legacy. Then all of the expectations to be perfect. But one day, when I was older, I just realized that I liked guys. So simple. I had a crush on a classmate, I could pick out other guys I was attracted to. It wasn’t a big deal, it wasn’t complicated, it just was.

“But then I turned thirteen and Dad sat me down and had a conversation about ‘continuing the Vacker line’. That’s when I started to hate myself a bit. Hate that I liked guys and not girls, hate that I had no desire to be with someone in that way.”

“You’re ace.”

I turn to her. “Maybe? I don’t know enough about it to make sense. What does sexual attraction even feel like? What does wanting to have sex even feel like? Maybe I’m feeling it and I just don’t know what it’s called?”

She shakes her head. “You’re ace.”

“I don’t know.”

“Say it with me. Say it out loud: I am Fitz Vacker. I am enough. I am asexual. I am not bad. I like men.”

“I am Fitz Vacker,” I murmur shakily. Sophie nods encouragingly. “I am enough. I am asexual. I- I’m not bad. I’m not wrong. I like men. Romantically.”

“Fitz,” Sophie says, rubbing my shoulder.

“I’m not wrong.”

“You are not wrong.”

*

The moon filters through the sheer curtains, illuminating the star we’re forming on the floor. It took a while for us to settle down – the movie, gossiping, talking more about the binder – but eventually we settled to bed. Biana, to my right, is fast asleep, thick hair spread around her. A single drop of drool is snaking down her face, and she’s curled in on herself. Sophie is on her stomach, head turned towards me, smiling. As I watch, she stirs slightly, hand coming up to cup her face. Keefe is on their back, one arm thrown towards the center. I can’t see their face, but I can hear them snoring softly.

Dex is on my other side. I turn towards him.

“Hello,” he whispers, giving me the smallest of smiles. He’s curled up on his side, one hand cupping his face. Strawberry blonde hair is spread over the pillow, illuminated by a strip of moonlight.

“Hi,” I whisper back, flushing slightly. “You’re awake.”

“So are you.”

The corner of my mouth tips up. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Dex yawns. “I sleep lightly – it’s been ingrained into me after all of those years of the triplets pranking me at night. Someone must have gotten up for water or something. I’m sorry it woke you, generally people sleep through it.”

“No, no. I sleep lightly too.” I look down, away from Dex’s searching gaze. “Sometimes my mom gets up in the middle of the night and takes a walk. I think it’s because she’s scared, or restless, or because of my dad. I got used to getting up and sitting with her in the kitchen. I think sometimes she feels alone.”

“I think sometimes you feel alone.”

I take in a shuddering breath. “The mind breaking really got to her. We all knew that something was up, that he was cracking. It always feels worse for me to have known and not done anything than to have not known at all. It’s a lot. But at night… sometimes we just need a moment alone without any of that suffocating you. A moment of peace.”

Dex watches me for a moment, then slowly slips out of his sleeping bag and stands. I stare up at him, confused, as he offers his hand out to me.

“Want to take a walk?”

His hand is warm.

There’s a stone path wrapping around the house that branches into the forest. My sneakers make tiny tapping sounds against it. Dex is somehow completely silent, completely at home. It’s the perfect kind of quiet out here – not completely; bugs and plants coming to life around us.

“Mom got a lot of hate after Alvar was born. Partly because of the eyes, but I think that it’s also because we’re mixed. Elves like to pretend that they’re not racist, they’re better than humans in that aspect. It’s a lie.” I shake my head. “Polluting the Vacker line. Such a nasty thing to say. Dad never did anything about it either. Even played into it – blatantly ignoring Biana because she has the darkest skin. It's disgusting.”

Dex just shakes his head. We continue walking. Every once in a while, Dex points out landmarks and different kinds of plants. He names each one and tells little stories. They all make me smile.

“If you don’t mind me asking… what did you tell Sophie?”

I tense slightly, and Dex opens his mouth – to apologize, probably. I cut him off before he can begin. Don’t feel sorry. I want you to know. I trust you, Dex. I trust you. “It’s okay, you can ask,” I say, slipping my hands into my pockets. “I’m gay.”

My shoe clicks against the stone.

“Me too.”

WHAT?

“But-” I frown, glancing over at him. He’s not looking at me, instead fiddling with a woven bracelet on his wrist. The center is metal; It twitches, part of it flicking up onto his palm. “I thought- Sophie- and all of that stuff-”

Dex slowly lifts his head to meet my eyes. “No. Never.”

“Oh.”

I’m caught there, for a moment, Dex’s eyes more purple than blue in the moonlight. I start to take a step forwards – to take his hand, touch his shoulder, something – when a howl sounds from behind us. I glance towards the noise, suddenly cold.

Dex taps his bracelet again. The metal center moves. “We should get back.”

I nod, and follow him down the path, footsteps echoing off the trees. It doesn’t feel safe anymore, shadows turning into shapes, every twig breaking and leaf rustling a threat. I move closer to Dex, who has rolled up his sleeves to reveal a matching bracelet on his other arm.

He jolts to stop, staring between two trees. Without any warning, he takes my hand and runs. We tear through the forest, slamming into branches, trying desperately to stay on the path. Dex intertwines our fingers, pulling me faster and faster, closer towards the gap in trees ahead.

We break out into safety – only to be surrounded by figures in dark cloaks.

*

Dex’s hand is clammy and shaking in mine and I squeeze it to provide some semblance of comfort. He’s frozen, staring, stiff and terrified. These are the people who took him. I realize, rage boiling up out of my stomach, acidic and hot. It was them.

One of them darts towards us, cloak billowing and snatches at Dex’s shirt. His hand rips out of mine and I want to scream and there’s a flash of light and they collapse to the ground, twitching. Dex is alight with rage, one hand still extended. His bracelets have expanded over his palm, still crackling with energy. He bends his knees, shifting his weight closer to the ground, and says, “never again.”

I want to hold him. I want to hold him. I can suddenly feel, like weights, each and every time that he’s stiffened up against his will and remembered. This beautiful boy has used his lovely, unscarred ability to build weapons to protect himself and watched as everyone else got over something that is burned on him.

I want to kill them all.

Another one reaches forwards and Dex slaps them, an arc of white going straight into their side. They stagger, backing up. The circle tightens slightly and I kick out and manage to hit something, blinded by fear and black fabric.

In some sort of unanimous decision, they grab their fallen and glitter away.

The moment they’re gone Dex gasps, painful, and in slow motion crumples to the ground, his feet then his knees then his torso then- I run to catch him, wrapping my arms around his middle and supporting him as he shakes.

There’s a commotion from inside the house and I think I can hear the rest of the group running out but I’m just holding him, hoping and hoping and hoping-

I can’t lose you too. Not you.

Dex slowly wraps his arms around me, gripping my shirt tightly in his fists. I can feel tears pooling in my eyes, and slowly, one by one, they slide down my cheeks. Dex pushes away from me so he can see my face, and with sad eyes brushes away one of my tears.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, my voice tight.

Dex shakes his head. “No. No.” He takes one of my hands and squeezes it, and I lean in so my forehead touches his.

Our bubble is broken by a shrill scream – one of the figures is collapsed on the ground, abandoned by their associates. Dex reaches forwards, bracelet wrapping around his palm again, but I take his hand, tapping the center so it shrinks again.

“No more,” I whisper, pulling us away from the body. “Never again.”

Dex stares at me for a long time, then nods very slowly.

Sophie is near us, staring at the figure. Her eyes are shot wide and she’s caught in this position – as if she wants to run and is frozen in place at the same time. She’s afraid. I reach out to her. She joins us on the grass, taking my hand. Keefe and Biana are off to the side calling parents and the council, but we’re here.

“They must have… wanted to try again… since we got out the first time,” Sophie says, voice shaking. “They must have been watching.” She starts to cry.

Too young. Not now.

My mind feels broken and constrained and too big, and I realize, somehow, that I’m shaking. Dex slips his arm around my waist. The three of us take deep breaths in sync, ignoring the body and the adults glittering onto the property, ignoring the world around us. Dex buries his face in my shoulder and I make eye contact with Sophie through his hair.

…third, I think you’re in love with someone else.

Sophie raises her eyebrows ever so slightly, and for a fleeting moment I wonder if she’s reading my mind. I frown at her, wrapping my arm around Dex tighter, and she gives me a small smile.

…in love with someone.

…in love with…

Dex.

*

Fuck.

*

One moment, there are a million adults at our house. The next, they’re all gone. I’m left sitting in my room, alone and cold. Moments are frozen in my mind – the star of sleeping bags, Biana’s shrill scream, Fitz’s hand in mine as we ran.

It’s too quiet here – just my shaky breathing and the moon. I hope, for a fleeting second, that Mom will put down a layer of snow – all of this is bound to stress her out.

Snowfall.

I want to scream, to fill the silence that’s wrapping around and constraining me, to let go of all of this fear that’s boiling up, fear that they’re still here and fear that they’re going to get us next time and fear. I want to scream because this is unfair. Because we’re all just kids and we shouldn’t have to do this at all.

My hands are shaking and my eyes are screwed up I feel like I may actually scream when there’s a soft knock at my door. I see the top of Mom’s auburn head lean in, and she smiles at me, revealing two mugs of hot chocolate in her hands. I give her a weak nod, scooting back so there’s room for her to sit. She settles down at the end of my bed, leaning against one of the back posts. The mug is warm against my stiff hands. I breathe in the familiar scent, eyelashes fluttering closed.

“I’m so sorry, Dex.”

I look down at the swirling cocoa, watching as pale foam mixes with the dark brown in incomprehensible patterns. “Yeah. Me too.”

Mom stares at me, her eyes sad. “Honey, are you okay? I know that this evening… I know that you’re not okay right now, but before that? Has something happened?”

My hands start to shake, and I grip my mug tighter. “You’d never hate me, would you? If I haven’t been telling you things?”

“Dexter,” Mom says, her voice cracking.

“It feels like there’s so much I should be telling you that I’m not and the longer I wait the bigger it gets. I’m scared that you’ll hate me for not telling you earlier and there’s so much I want to say and I don’t know what to do because I need you.”

The tears from earlier are still here, running down my cheeks and dripping off my chin. Mom doesn’t look angry or horrified, just sad. Quiet. She sets down her mug on my bedside table and leans forward to cup my cheek with a soft palm.

“You don’t need to tell me now. Honestly? You never need to tell me. But if you want to, please do. I will never hate you. I promise. I will never hate you. You can tell me. But you don’t have to.”

Before I can even contemplate what I’m about to say or even which one I’m going to say I blurt out: “I manifested as a technopath three months ago.”

Mom blinks, surprised, but quickly schools herself and nods for me to continue.

“I didn’t tell Dad because I didn’t want to deal with the expectations he was going to put on me – he wants me to manifest so bad and he’s projecting all of his ideas around manifesting onto me and I… I just want to build stuff! It’s not complicated. But I know that dad will get this really big uncomfortable grin and I’ll have to deal with that when it’s just building stuff.”

“I’m proud of you, Dex.”

“…You are?”

“Of course. But I’m especially proud about this. Your dad does have some stuff around manifesting, but it’s a big deal to parents in general. We’re proud of you growing up and discovering who you are. We’re proud of you ‘just building stuff’, because it’s big and important to us. But I’m also proud of you for being able to admit it.”

I give Mom a watery smile and she leans forwards and hugs me tight. I realize that I’m much bigger than Mom at this point, practically towering over her, but her hugs still make me feel warm. She gives me one last squeeze and leans back, retrieving her cocoa from the table.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you do when you fall in love with someone you can’t be with?”

She gives me a wicked grin. “You marry them, have four kids, and say ‘fuck society’.”

“Mom!”

She laughs. “No. You ask yourself: why are they the wrong person? And then you realize that they’re probably not.”

I stare down at my hands, twisting my bracelets. Mom hums lightly, sensing my muddled feelings. “Doesn’t feel that simple, does it? Is this about Sophie?”

I, very slowly, shake my head.

“The pretty Vacker girl? Biana?”

I tense up slightly, and I can feel Mom smiling.

“Honey, just because they’re the Vackers doesn’t mean that you can’t date Biana. She’s a lovely girl, and she seems like she’s not posh or rude or anything. She’s just a person that you know. If you approach her, I’m sure that-”

“Mom,” I say, my voice breaking. “It’s not Biana. It’s not the pretty Vacker girl. It’s the pretty Vacker boy.”

She stares at me for a moment, her mouth dropping open slightly, eyes wide. But then she sighs, taking my hands. “I was there for the talk that Grady and Eda gave Juline when she wanted to marry Brant. They knew the pain and the difficulty of a bad match, of going against Elven ‘norms’. I know them too. I see them every day. And here’s what I’m going to tell you, Dex: The Elven world hasn’t seen change for thousands and thousands of years. Really since we left the humans. It feels like everything has stayed the same.

“But I believe, with what’s going on with this group that just showed up and the Black Swan, I believe that this may be the time that that changes. This may be the year, the decade, the century, that the Elven world finally let’s go of the traditions and beliefs that they have gripped to for so long. I hope it is.

“This could make your life hard, Dex. There will be people who are against you. But no matter what happens, your father and I will always be here for you. We will always love and take care of you. And I’m sure that many of your friends will feel exactly the same way. Embrace yourself Dex, but please be careful.”

It’s my turn to be surprised. Mom brushes a tear off of my cheek with a sad smile. “I love you, hon. And your dad loves you too. I want to talk more about this with you and Kesler, but right now I think that you should get some rest.” She slides off of the bed, and grabbing my mug, kisses me on the head. “Sleep well, Dex.”

I nod slowly to myself. “Love you too, Mom.”

When I slide under the covers, I reach for my phone on my bedside table.

*

While the buzz of my phone makes me jump, it thankfully doesn’t disturb Mom or Biana. I slide it off the table, blinking as my eyes adjust to the light.

Dexnopath: you there?

Snowfall: yeah

Dexnopath: how are you feeling?

Snowfall: …I don’t know. My dad came and tried to talk to me at one point, but I just ignored him until he gave up. My mom and Biana came into my room and we’re all staying together tonight, but I can’t sleep.

Dexnopath: yeah, I know the feeling

Dexnopath: I just talked to my mom

Snowfall: what about?

Dexnopath: everything really. She asked how I was doing, so I just started talking. And I told her I was a technopath and that I’m not straight and then… yeah. She just left.

Snowfall: wow. How did it go?

Dexnopath: she told me about how aunt Eda and Grady talked with Juline before she married Brant and how they knew that they were a bad match and how to deal with it. She said that I’m going to have to deal with a lot of bad stuff in my life from people that think that I’m bad but she still loves me and stuff. So yeah, it went well.

Snowfall: that’s good.

There’s a pause where neither of us write anything. I can almost feel Dex next to me, a small frown on his face, his hair ruffled. His bright eyes sad as he stares at the screen of his phone, the harsh white light illuminating his skin.

Snowfall: I wish you were here

Dexnopath: I wish you were here and didn’t have to deal with everything with your parents.

Snowfall: me too

Dexnopath: …I should really get some sleep. Stay safe, Snowfall.

Snowfall: goodnight

Dexnopath: goodnight

I stare at my phone for another few seconds before discarding it on the table next to me and rolling over onto my stomach. I close my eyes and imagine Dex again, asleep in his bed on his side. One of his hands is up by his face, and I can see his pale eyelashes vibrating as he dreams. Of good things, I hope.

*

I set my tray down on the table with a sharp clang. “Ok, Dex, give it back.”

Dex looks up from where he’s helping Sophie with her alchemy homework with a wicked grin. “Give what back?”

I glare at him, sitting down next to Keefe, who is looking on with interest. “C’mon Dex, I need it.”

Dex just smiles at me, winks, then returns to helping Sophie.

I huff in annoyance, taking a bite of my soup.

“What did he take?” Keefe asks, raising their eyebrows at me.

“It doesn’t really matter,” I mutter into my food.

“Mhmm,” Biana hums from across from me, peeling an orange. “Of course it doesn’t.”

With a defeated sigh, I stand and walk around the table towards Dex and Sophie. Then, throwing all of my dignity out of the window, I forcefully squish myself between the two on the bench, half sitting on both of them. Sophie laughs, sliding over to give me more space, but Dex doesn’t budge, ignoring me completely, continuing his conversation with Sophie. I slowly start leaning more and more on Dex until he relents, turning towards me with a corny smile.

“Yes, Fitz?”

“Can I have my bracelet back, please?”

Dex blinks innocently. “What bracelet? I only have on the bracelets I made.”

Without breaking eye contact, I grab Dex’s left hand and point at the seashell bracelet sliding around on it, tied much too big for his thin, bony wrist. There are three tiny blue pearls in the center. I found them while practicing my hydrokinesis. A gift from the ocean.

I pull it off of his wrist and slip it onto mine. I attempt to pull the strings taught with one hand and fail miserably. After watching me struggle for a few seconds, Dex snorts and pulls my hand towards him. He tightens the bracelet for me with practiced fingers, twisting the band so it lays flat.

I glare pointedly at him once again, then stand and return to my seat and my soup.

Keefe leans towards me. “What was that about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter, twisting the bracelet around my wrist with a small smile.

*

I trace the top of the waves with my toe, watching the others roughhouse. Biana squeals as Sophie tackles her into the water, a huge splash erupting out. Keefe is one the side, laughing, but screams as Biana pulls them down too. The dock creaks, and I feel Fitz settle next to me. He doesn’t say anything, just leans his head back to let the sun shine on his face.

It’s the perfect day to go swimming. The water is clear and crisp and not too cold, shining teal in the sunlight. Three fluffy clouds drift across the bright blue sky, the sun warming the entire scene. There are light waves crashing across the ocean, a comforting background noise.

“Fitz?” I ask, staring at ocean floor.

“Yeah?”

“Why can Sophie… why isn’t she scared of the ocean like I am? She was taken too. I don’t understand why she can be so happy and I can barely even touch the water.”

Fitz sighs. “I’m going to give you my best guess: Sophie is ready.” He slides off of the end of the dock and into the water so he’s facing me. His eyes match the ocean. “Sophie is ready to face her fears, and you’re not. It’s not a bad thing that you’re not ready, you just aren’t. Sometimes you have to just close your eyes and go.”

I glance up at Fitz’s face, then slide forwards slightly on the dock so both of my feet are in the water. Fitz steps forwards to help, and I take his offered hands, intertwining our fingers. I scrunch my eyes closed, take a deep breath, and jump.

The water only comes up to my waist , and it’s… warmer than I expected. I crack my eyes open to see Fitz slightly below me, grinning proudly. I laugh, feeling much lighter, and wade out towards the others by the rocks.

Before I can get there, my entire head and back are soaked in water with a mighty crash. I turn to see Fitz still mid-splash, his mouth open. “Shit, shit I didn’t mean to put that much power in!” He shouts, dropping his hands.

I grin wickedly and splash Fitz back, soaking his fluffy hair and plastering it to his head. It immediately curls into tight coils that flop over his face. He glares at me through the sopping strands, then winds up to splash me again. Before he can move I’ve tackled him, pushing us both under the water. I hold my breath, but Fitz is laughing, and he wriggles out of my grip like a fish and kicks out towards deeper water.

I follow him, and with a lucky grab grasp one of his arms and pull him towards me. Fitz lets out yell of surprise as I lift him out of the water and over one of my shoulders like a sack of potatoes, marching towards Sophie, Biana, and Keefe.

“Really?” He asks, poking my back.

“Do you want me to throw you?”

Fitz shrieks in fear and I laugh, dropping him onto his feet. Everyone is soaked and enjoying themselves, Biana on Sophie’s shoulders and Keefe waving at us as we walk over. I forgot how much fun it is to just be. Splash fights and floating on the water and having rock climbing competitions and swimming competitions and teasing Fitz for cheating when no one’s paying attention because Fitz I know you used the water to propel yourself that’s not allowed turbo arms do not count as swimming.

We play around in the water for a couple hours, then Keefe convinces us all to make Biana into a mermaid with sand, which actually goes moderately well. As it gets dark, we dig into the picnic basket that Sophie brought, watching the sunset reflect onto the water.

Keefe has pulled out some watercolors and is trying to recreate the scene before the sun finishes setting, Biana and Sophie asleep on top of them; Sophie across his lap and Biana on one of his shoulders. Fitz and I are out at the dock again, and we’re laying on each other, tired, tired, tired.

“I’m glad that today was fun for you,” Fitz says with a wide yawn. “It would be sad if you could never go swimming again.”

I nod lazily, wrapping one of my arms around Fitz’s waist. “It was nice to hang out with all of you. It makes everything less hectic and more… peaceful. You can’t really think about all of the bad things that have happened when you’re trying to stop Sophie from tackling you and Biana from splashing you. It was a good distraction.”

Fitz melts into my side, and I smile down at him, feeling him falling asleep against me. No longer scared of the waves crashing under me, I hum under my breath, watching the sun bleed into the water as it sets, perfectly content.

*

There’s a light tapping on my door, and I glance up, surprised. “Uh, come in?”

I'm even more surprised to see Keefe’s blonde head peer in through my door.

“Oh, Keefe, I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything alright?”

They nod, closing the door behind them and settling down onto my bed. “I dunno, Fitz, I wasn’t going to bother you about this, it’s just… it’s been going on for so long and it’s started to worry me, and it’s not that I think that you’re doing anything wrong, but something is up and I don’t really know how to deal with it anymore.”

“…Ok?” I say, my eyebrows creasing together. “What is it?”

“It’s about Dex.”

I can feel myself stiffen slightly at the name, and Keefe frowns at me.

“It’s just that, what you just did – something's up with you two. I can feel it. You have all of this emotion towards him and it’s so overwhelming and for some reason I just don’t understand it and… Fitz, if you hate him just admit it.”

“Keefe, I…,” I pause, blinking rapidly. “Wait, what?”

“You don’t have to pretend to like him, if you hate him then-”

“Oh my god, Keefe, I don’t hate Dex, I’m in love with him.”

There’s a sudden and sharp silence as both of us process my words.

“Well, shit,” I say, rubbing my face with one of my hands. “I did not mean to say that at all.”

Keefe continues to stare at me, then slaps their forehead. “Of course! That makes so much more sense! No wonder I was confused, your actions don’t align with hate at all! …I think one of my empath books said something about love and hate feeling similar. Maybe I should look more into that…”

I watch as Keefe trails off into their brain with a small frown. “You… don’t care?”

They glance up at me. “No, Fitz, of course I care. It’s just… it’s not groundbreaking. I’m not going to go crazy. Look, Biana and I guessed that you and Dex weren’t straight when you both went out to talk to Sophie, and you guys went walking... in the forest together-" They trail off, face blank. "Okay how did I think you hated him?”

“Keefe, slow down,” I say, reaching out blindly with one of my hands to pat their shoulder. “I can’t think. You’re the first person I’ve told and I didn’t even mean to! I’m sorry if I’m A LITTLE BIT FREAKED OUT, OK?”

“Fitz,” Keefe, says, their voice suddenly calm. “Fitz I need you to breathe with me, okay? Take my hands.”

I feel our hands grasp each other’s as Keefe continues talking.

“Breathe in, Fitz, then out. In and out. I think you’re panicking, so you need to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Again. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

I allow myself to get swept up by Keefe’s words, breathing steadily. Keefe squeezes my hands, their voice steady and unwavering.

“It’s alright. I don’t and won’t hate you for loving Dex. I understand, alright? I understand that it can be really freaky to have this sort of secret you haven’t even admitted to yourself. And I’m really sorry that you accidentally admitted it to me – I wish you had more control of the situation. But now that I know: I won’t tell anyone without your permission, I promise, and I will support you on this, ok? I’ve got you, Fitz. I’ve got you.”

“I’m so scared of what’s going to happen with my parents,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut. “For Biana too. And you! I know that Dex will be alright, he’s already talked to his parents, they’re completely okay with him being whoever he is, and I know that Grady and Edaline will be supportive for Sophie, but my dad… I still remember that conversation we had about ‘finding a suitable candidate to continue the Vacker line’. At this rate I don’t even want to continue it! I want to continue my mom’s line, but if I have kids, all they’re going to be is Vackers.”

“You could take Dex’s last name. Or you could disown your own name and make your last name… hey, what is your mom’s maiden name?”

“Exactly! No one really knows who she is outside of being a Vacker. It’s Astraea.”

“That is so much cooler than Vacker! Oh Fitz, please disown your father and become the Astraea’s. Please. That would be so cool. I can disown my father and become one too. It would be amazing. Let’s do it. Come on Fitz. Come on. Your mom would be so down she’s amazing.”

I laugh, shoving Keefe away from me and collapsing backwards onto my pillows. “God, I wish.”

They flop down next to me, staring at the glowing stars I’ve stuck across my ceiling. “That’s actually her last name right there,” I say, gesturing to one of the lines. “The one that looks like a person. The name ‘Astraea’ means ‘star’. Astraea was the Greek goddess, one of the human’s religions, of justice and innocence. The legend is that after ‘wickedness took root in the world’ she left and became this constellation, Virgo. It’s a lovely reminder of her.”

Keefe nods, “Did you learn all of that for her?”

“Yeah. And I thought it was interesting.”

“Hm.”

I close my eyes, basking in the warmth of having someone you care about next to you, safe.

“Keefe?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Fitz.”

*

“Tell me you’re not actually going this. PROMISE me that you’re not doing this.”

“Dex…” Fitz says, staring at the floor, “I…”

“FITZ!” I yell, slumping against the desk, head in my hands. “Why are you doing this? Is this out of obligation for Sophie? Do not put yourself in a situation where you could get hurt because you feel bad for yelling at her!”

“It’s just… I have to.”

“You DO NOT have to do this at all! Fintan can stay asleep and half-dead for all I care! Since when did we care about whatever the fuck the council thinks? Your dad or Tiergan or someone else can do this! It doesn’t have to be you!”

“I am not making Sophie work with my dad. She doesn’t need that in her life. And she’ll work the best with me! We actually know each other so our minds will be much more compatible.”

“FITZ, GODDAMNIT, I DON’T CARE THAT YOU’RE THE BEST CHOICE, I CARE THAT YOU COULD DIE. WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WALKING INTO THIS? WHY DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS?”

“OF COURSE I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS! I DON’T EVEN WANT TO BE IN THE SAME ROOM AS FINTAN! BUT SOPHIE HAS TO DO THIS OR THE COUNCIL WILL DO SOMETHING TO HER AND I’M NOT LETTING HER GET HURT BECAUSE I WOULDN’T DO IT! I don’t want to do this in a million years. But it really fucking feels like I don’t have a choice.”

I walk over towards him, standing just in front of him. He looks up at me, expression sad.

“Dex,” Fitz starts, his voice heavy. “I don’t want to go.”

“I know. You need to know that.”

“What?”

“You can’t go there pretending that it’s all fine, that you’re all happy with the situation. If you live in that fake mindset, you’re going to get hurt. As long as you know. As long as you’re walking into this understanding that it’s a choice.”

His shoulders sag. “I don’t know what to do. I know that I don’t want to go, but I also know that if I go it reduces the chance of Sophie getting hurt…”

“…But it ups the chance of you getting hurt.”

“What am I supposed to do? Value myself over Sophie?”

“Fitz, you’re going to hate yourself if you don’t go. I want you to choose to go, and I want you to go fully knowing the risks and understanding everything, but you also know yourself. I don’t really know either. But I think that you can figure it out. I’m here for you, Snowfall.”

He reaches up and hugs me around my neck. I wrap my arms around his waist.

“Thank you.”

“Always.”

*

Fire splits the room in three – I can no longer see the councilors or Fintan. The entire structure shudders, ancient crystal not ready for the amount of glowing Everblaze in it. I look frantically to Sophie, but her attention is caught by the flames. Instead of backing up to protect herself, she leans towards it.

Sophie, with more boldness than I’ve ever seen her have, with this power I can’t explain, walks into the fire. The wall accepts her like an old friend, burning off her cape and leaving it melted on the ground. I can feel myself scream, somewhere, but it’s eaten up in the sheer amount of neon. Bright and choking and Sophie is gone and I don’t know what to do. I’m itching to do something to escape when the fire swells, lifting up and up and up. Sophie stands in the center of the room, holding a burning sun above her head.

This is the Moonlark. With glowing orange eyes and sharp features and an intense glare. This is not Sophie, this is the girl that the whispers speak about – the girl with four abilities, the weapon. She doesn’t even register me, just turns towards Fintan, who smiles.

“I should have known,” he says, eyes turning a horrible red, “I should have known.”

They lock gazes, and Fintan nods. Sophie bends her arms, pushes the Everblaze up, and lets it rain down onto Fintan. He doesn’t scream, he doesn’t even twitch, just closes his eyes and tips his chin up towards the ceiling. His body is gone in a breath, and Sophie just watches it.

“Fintan Pyren, you are free.” Her voice echoes. “I take the burden of The Sun from you. I, Sophie Foster, am now Sophie Ruewen of the Sun, and vow to only use The Sun for the betterment of The Universe.”

Sophie seems content to just stand there, watching the flames, but Oblivimyre is still melting around us. I take Sophie’s hand, hoping it won’t burn me.

“Sophie?" My voice shakes. "Can you get us out?”

She turns to me, eyes glowing. I don’t know who this girl is, but she nods, pulling the two of us out the building and into the open air. I close my eyes tight, putting all of my faith in Sophie Ruewen of the Sun.

I cry out as lightning rips through my shoulder, a throbbing mess. I roll onto my other side, using my good arm to help me sit up. We’re on one of the hills away from Oblivimyre, a perfect view of the continuing destruction – neon flickers, rivers of amethyst.

Sophie is shaking. Normal, real Sophie, small and curled into a ball, arms around her knees and face hidden in her clothes. “What am I going to tell Grady and Edaline?” She whispers, barely understandable through the fabric. “Who is going to tell my parents that I can control the very thing that killed Jolie?”

There is nothing to say to that, so I try to push myself to standing. I somehow forget that my arm doesn’t work anymore, and collapse onto my side with a yell. Sophie, calm and slow and panicking all at once, wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into a sitting position. She peels the sleeve of my shirt away from my shoulder and winces.

“It’s messed up. Maybe dislocated? I can make a sling.”

I nod slowly, eyes finding Sophie’s face. Her eyes are still orange, but they’re not glowing anymore, now… muted. If you didn’t know her well, they would look almost the same. Sophie reaches for my cape, but freezes. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

She turns around slowly, and all of my breath rushes out of me. Because where Sophie’s blonde hair used to fall down to her mid back, is now burnt away to her shoulders, the ends a sickly shade of black. “I’m sorry. It’s gone.”

Sophie runs a hand through her hair once, but doesn’t say anything, resuming taking off my cloak and tying it around my torso so I can rest my arm in it. Once she’s done, we stand, and with a sort of unification, walk down the hill.

There’s a small group of adults nearby – all twelve of the councilors and Dad. They’re all shouting, except for, surprisingly, Bronte. He is the first to notice us, and slips away from the group. “You need to go. Now.”

Sophie is shaking once again, so I wrap my free arm around her shoulders. “What are we supposed to do? What happened?”

“Just go to Havenfield. I’ll meet you there and explain everything. But right now, you need to leave.”

I frown slightly, staring at Bronte. His eyes aren’t cyan like I expected, they’re hazel, a forest green with veins of brown in them. There’s a question on my lips, but instead, I take Sophie’s hand. She holds up her home crystal, and together we walk into the light.

We glitter onto Havenfield, and the first thing I see is Dex. He’s crying and pacing back and forth and back and forth and- I’m so exhausted that I can barely move, but I just manage to grasp onto Sophie’s hand and say, “I’m here.” I see him hear me, and he rushes over, enveloping us both in a hug. I bury my face in his shoulder, letting myself shake.

“Fitz,” Dex whispers, leading Sophie and I into the house, “what happened?”

I glance over at Sophie, who has her arms wrapped tight around herself, drawn and scared. “I don’t really know.”

Grady and Edaline are sitting in front of the fire. From far away it just looks like they’re cuddling, but I can see from their tense shoulders and the taught silence in the room that it’s fear. Sophie, next to me, sees the fire, tenses, her hand flying up to her mouth, and sprints out of the room. Dex starts to go after her, but I shake my head, pulling him over so we can sit with Grady and Edaline.

“Leave her be,” I say, sitting down on the other couch and wincing. “She needs some space.”

Grady looks helplessly at his wife, both of whom had stood to help their daughter, then slowly rests back down on the sofa. “What happened?”

“…A lot. But right now, you need to call Elwin.”

“For Sophie?”

“No. For me.”

That’s when the three of them notice my half-burnt sling. Edaline stands and leaves the room, to call him presumably, and Dex glares at me. I don’t say anything to him, just close my eyes and lay my head on his shoulder. I feel him relax under my touch, and I sigh, letting a tear slip out of one of my eyes.

After a few minutes, I hear the door open. All four of us (Edaline came back with waters, thank god for my dried out throat) look up. Standing there is not only Elwin, but also Bronte, who looks very tense. Elwin comes over to me and crouches in front of me with a sigh.

“How are you feeling, Fitz?”

“Great question,” I mutter, making Elwin crack a smile.

“Drink this for smoke inhalation,” Elwin says, handing me a vial. “I have one for Sophie when she comes down. Where is she, by the way?”

I say, ‘throwing up’ at the same time Bronte says, ‘she won’t need one’.

Elwin glances between the two of us, confused. He must have to deal with stuff like this a lot, because he just returns the vial to his bag and stands. I expect him to ask where Sophie went, but instead he sits down next to me and pulls off my sling. I hear him hiss in annoyance, and he produces a pair of scissors and starts to hack away at my shirt.

I cry out in pain as the scissors press against my skin, and I feel Dex intertwine our fingers and squeeze my hand. I grin over at him, wincing slightly. “Feels lovely to have the roles reversed, doesn’t it?”

“God, don’t remind me,” Dex mutters, touching his side.

“Okay Fitz,” Elwin says, “I’m going to have to set this. And it’s going to hurt. A lot. I would offer you a numbing agent but I promise it doesn’t really help. Feel free to scream.”

“That’s comforting,” I mutter as Elwin positions his hands on my arm. I close my eyes and squeeze Dex’s hand tight and- CRACK. So yeah, I screamed. Loud. It felt just like when it dislocated – a lightning bolt through my bones, ripping my muscles and tissues out from the inside.

Just like that, it’s over. I collapse against Dex, letting Elwin wrap another much more professional sling around my body. There are footsteps from behind me, and Elwin says, “Ah, Sophie, you’re back.” I open my eyes to see him handing her a glass of water and directing her to sit down on one of the single chairs. She takes the glass with shaking hands and gulps it down. “I was told that you don’t need any help with smoke inhalation.”

Sophie winces and shakes her head. Elwin crouches down in front of her too. I can see now that he’s doing it to another how it works. It gives the patient the higher ground, allows them to see everything that’s going on and him, and it makes you feel more like a kid when you’re tired, less responsible.

“Sophie, would you like me to cut your hair?”

I’m surprised at that, but it seems like the right thing to say, because Sophie nods. Elwin grabs his bag and stands behind her, pulling out a pair of scissors and a comb. She closes her eyes as he runs the comb through her hair, trimming away burnt ends.

“Sophie,” Bronte says, startling me, “is there anyone you would like to leave while I explain this?”

Sophie looks around the room, making eye contact with me and Dex, then shakes her head. I can practically feel the confusion radiating off of Grady and Edaline, but they stay silent. Bronte nods, shifting in his seat slightly.

“Before we start, we’re going to need some background. Sophie?”

Sophie sighs, and holds up one of her hands. Her eyes glow orange once again, and she snaps, a small flame appearing above her fingers. She watches it for a second, a tear running down her face, then makes her hand into a fist to extinguish it.

“I’m a pyrokinetic,” she says, her voice shaky. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Edaline whispers, eyes wide.

“Also, you aren’t a pyrokinetic,” Bronte says matter-of-factly. He smiles sadly at Sophie’s confused expression. “You’re an elemental.”