Off on an Adventure

Lord Luceras scratched the trimmed stubble on his cheeks, shirt sleeves shoved to his upper arms. He uncurled the blueprint from the top of the teetering pile and pondered the outline. “There is no rush,” he assured. “We are not exactly short on time, and I would rather spend an extra week smoothing out the designs as much as we can than face bumps down the road.”

Oscar frowned at his mentor, noting the embellished suspenders dangling in fatigued hoops by his waist and the tufts sticking from the topknot on his head. “Late night?”

“Yes, yes, lots of work to do.”

Oscar crossed his arms and clicked his tongue.

“What?” Luceras exhaled.

“Work? That is what you were doing all night?”

“Is that not what I said?”

Pretending to ruminate, Oscar tightened the fold of his arms and stared at the Prosperian lord. He disregarded his show of suspicion with a pointed shake of the sketches. “So you weren’t at a party until two hours ago?”

Luceras lowered the blueprints. From the beginning of his apprenticeship, the Citadel student had conducted every detail according to the book, deadlines met with days to spare and specifications squeezing at his artistic talent. The creative freedoms he cultivated dimmed in an effort to impress and please. On many occasions, Luceras had insisted he take time to paint, to sketch, to reach into the glittering recesses of his soul and bring something to life for the sake of it. But Oscar refused to listen, insisting on dedicating himself entirely to his new role.

“I attended a small carouse, and while I may have sunk into a glass or two, I also conversed with many individuals who are interested in facilitating our endeavour to rebuild The Core. So, yes, I was working.”

“Professor Spark specifically stated that this outpost needs to be started before the end of the month,” Oscar insisted.

“And it will,” Luceras replied. He abandoned the blueprint to the overflowing pile and handed him the sketchbook from the desk drawer. “Your design is exceptional, but there are a few structural flaws with the signal spire that need to be remedied. I made some suggestions for you.”

Unravelling the leather string binding the loose sheets, Oscar skipped to the rough illustration of the outpost. Written in the margin, Luceras’s flowing cursive advised him on the recommended corrections. He slid the pencil from the clip on the side and started rectifying the fault.

“May I ask you something?” Luceras asked, a preoccupied nod inviting him to continue. “You have not been to Solgarde in a while, and you have yet to mention any future visits. Did something happen when you were last there?”

The pencil slowed. “No.”

“Then why have you not been back?” Luceras quickly held his hand up to postpone the inevitable excuses. “Before you claim to have been busy, you can withhold those lies. I would never stop you from visiting home no matter how much work there was.”

Oscar replaced the pencil and shut the sketchbook. “Every time I leave Solgarde, it gets more and more difficult,” he admitted. “It’s my home, my family and friends are there. Up until a few years ago, my entire life had been lived on that planet, in that tiny, inconsequential corner of Myriad. And when I have to say goodbye, it feels like I’m leaving a part of myself there. I want to visit again, I just need to settle here properly and be certain of my choice before I do.” His teeth snagged his bottom lip, a firm bite delaying the sickly sensation in his stomach. “I know I have my whole life ahead of me, but I don’t have thousands of years like Prosperians. I have a hundred, maybe a bit more if I’m lucky. A blink to you. And there is so much I want to do. Too much, it feels like sometimes.”

From his seat on the vent block, Luceras studied the pensive furrow of his brow and the sensible fixation in his eyes. Oscar knew what he wanted from his creative capabilities, but he grasped now that he immersed himself in his work not only as a pursuit of his goal, but as a distraction from the hurt of living away from his loved ones.

“You are wiser than your years, Oz,” Luceras said, “but the ache of leaving home, whatever home may mean to you, never goes away. When you leave love, it is always a challenge. That is what I never understood about Bartholomew. He could not wait to shed the shackles of Prosperia, as he so considerately put it, forsaking the love he had there. It broke Marcia the most. She always doted on him when we were children. But although there is pain in parting, it does not mean you should avoid it.”

Behind the seated lord, the natural world and the buildings he inspired to rise co-existed together. Each morning, the aperture of the central travel point held onto the sunrise as it reared over the horizon, and come nightfall, the Starlight Path sailed over them, clear and bright. He helped design the city to inspire hope, a rebirth that ignited the entire system, and yet in doing so, his own spark had faded, succumbing to the duress of his dreams.

“You must rest yourself and your creativity from time to time,” Luceras advised. “If all you do is work the pencil, it soon becomes dull. Sharpen your senses again.”

“Point taken,” Oscar sighed, “and pun intended.”

“That’s the Oscar I know,” Luceras said heartily, hopping down from the ventilation hood and nudging him with his elbow. “I think there is somebody down there trying to get your attention.”

Oscar followed the pointed nod over the glass barrier.

Below, the smooth pavement and meandering walkways woke with the pattering of feet, unrecognisable faces passing by. Amongst them, a familiar figure waved up at him. He blinked and looked again to be sure of what he was seeing.

“Hey!” Alek shouted, lowering his arms. “Oscar!”

“When did you get here?” Oscar called.

Luceras leaned his hip on the paned barricade and tapped Oscar’s arm. “What are you doing? Say hello.”

“But Bartholomew-“

“My brother is not the be all and end all,” Luceras told him. “Spend some time with your friend and take your time. I can manage the finalisations for the outpost, and we can go through the details later. Home has come to you, and you cannot miss your chance.”

Oscar collided with Alek and whisked him into a hug before the door to Luceras’s studio had begun to close, clutching him tightly and swaying him on the spot. “It has been too long,” he said, releasing him from his grip. “What are you doing here? I had no idea you were planning on visiting.”

“I wasn’t, but I’ve had enough of my parents parading me around,” Alek explained. “They can hardly do that if I’m not there.”

“In that case, I appoint myself cheer up captain,” Oscar said. “And I take my duty seriously.”

“Yes, sir,” Alek chuckled with a salute.

“See. Got a grin already.” Directing him up the extended incline of the main avenue and to the elevated walkway above, Oscar stayed to the shaded overhang, the developing daylight blinding to unguarded eyes. “What did your parents say when you told them you were leaving?” he asked. “I can’t imagine they were pleased.”

Alek tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, a sheepish curl in his shoulders.

“You did speak to them before you left, didn’t you?” Oscar questioned, the answer already painted in his friend’s tight-lipped smile.

“Gwen knows, and she promised she would cover for me,” Alek clarified. “She was the one who gave me the push to stop dragging my feet and take matters into my own hands.”

Oscar compelled his ankles to climb and hunched to get himself up the steeper section of the slope, imparting a solacing pat to his shoulder. Not every family functioned like his, not everyone had the support and encouragement afforded to him since birth. More than once, he had contemplated bringing both Alek and Esther into his family and giving them a home with him, but he acknowledged they were too proud to accept such an offer. Instead, he encouraged them as best he could, reassuring them of their abilities and their worth, and heartening them on their own paths.

“I feel awful about leaving her behind,” Alek admitted, “but I have a plan. I’m going to settle somewhere away from Solgarde, maybe find an apartment here. When she’s ready, Gwen can stay with me for a while, at least until she has a place of her own. She has such a talent when it comes to music, and I can’t stand our parents taking credit for her achievements.”

“Myriad would love her,” Oscar agreed, “and The Core is a good central location for her, if she wishes to leave Solgarde.”

“There are so many more opportunities for her now. She can take her music anywhere she wants.”

“Sell out concerts, tours across the stars,” Oscar pondered. “Name shining in lights.”

“Maybe she just needs to see that she can get away,” Alek said. “If I can do it, then so can she.”

“Always the trendsetter,” Oscar teased.

Reaching the beginning of the overpass, Alek swatted at his arm, laughing with him as the advancing morning burnished the pale stone and whispered into the trees standing guard over the pathway. Sheets of water toppled from the sides and into basins below, a kaleidoscope of rich blooms and multicoloured underbrush enhancing the summer green of the pruned hedges.

Early risers summoned themselves from their drowse with wide yawns and caffeinated brews, the sleep clinging to their eyes and the sunlight prodding them awake. Light-footed and chirping, a flock of pygmy birds capered at the roots of a twisted tree, the bole and boughs slanting and curving as though to direct the flow of foot traffic and the leaves fluffier than those Alek was accustomed to on Solgarde.

Oscar deviated from their route and collected a handful of white berries from the higher branches. “I come up here sometimes on my lunch break,” he explained, crouching to the scattering of birds and presenting a palm full of ripe fruits to them. The birds skittered at first, approaching with tentative hops before digging into the offering. “There are flocks of sorrel birds up and down the walkways, but they mostly stick to the Aether Alder. Hopefully soon, we will get to see some fledglings. Luceras claims that birds born in Alder trees like this one are lucky, but I’m not sure how much truth there is in it.”

Freeing the creases in his fingers from the syrupy residue on the cloth he usually reserved for pencil stains, he rose. “We have another guest up at the lab,” Oscar said as they resumed their leisurely stroll through the suspended gardens.

“Oh?”

“Esther arrived recently.” At the wide-eyed elation unfolding across Alek’s features, Oscar swayed his head. “I’d put that cheer on hold for now. She went to Grethune before she came here.”

“Is she all right?” Alek fretted, joy plummeting. “She wasn’t hurt or anything, was she?”

“No, nothing like that, but the reunion with her parents didn’t exactly go as planned.”

How could it? Alek thought to himself, the memory of her tearfully trusting them with the story of how her parents betrayed her to the mage hunters still provoking a wrathful rage in his veins. Her story left a mark on him, and he only hoped that throughout their years of camaraderie and kinship, he and Oscar had brightened some of those darker days.

“Where did she go?” he asked.

“She’s been staying up at the lab, keeping to herself mostly. Professor Spark is away at the moment, but our rooms are just as we left them.”

“I didn’t think he’d keep them. Surely he had a better use for them once we went back to Solgarde?”

“I assumed as you did, but he said he wanted them to stay as they were, just in case we dropped by.”

A twinge smarted in the pit of Alek’s stomach. After departing from The Core to complete their studies at the Citadel, he and Esther rarely visited the central world. Only Oscar remained faithful, finishing his schooling early to join the efforts in restoring The Core and keeping the nine worlds afloat.

“A lot has changed since I was last here,” Alek said, admiring the architecture and the mergence of mortar and nature.

“There’s plenty more to see,” Oscar beamed. “Come on, I’ll take you on an extended route up to the lab.”

* * *

An excitable bounce in his strides and his enthusiastic rambles deviating into plans and potential redesigns, Oscar guided Alek through abundant streets and developing districts on his guided tour. From a forsaken wasteland that stretched beyond the horizon to a blossoming city, Oscar’s dedication ensured a true centrepiece for the nine worlds and a reclaimed crown for the whole of Myriad.

“During those years at the Academy,” Alek mused, boots crunching on the gravel footpath, “did you ever think you would be rebuilding an entire city?”

“I didn’t do this on my own,” Oscar corrected. “This is Lord Luceras’s project.”

“He trusted you with a lot of the designs, right?”

Oscar relinquished the point to him with a bob of his head. “To answer your question, no, I didn’t think I would be creating anything on this kind of scale.”

“And look at you now.”

The pride in Alek’s voice sent a warmth across Oscar’s cheeks, and he angled himself away to hide the rosy flush. Nothing ever evaded the notice of the soldier-in-training, and he silently accepted the teasing pokes to his arm.

“You know, I haven’t missed you at all,” Oscar remarked, tipping his nose up to the sky in an extension of his pretence.

Alek swivelled on his heels and continued their walk backwards, accepting the bait with a brazen grin. “Don’t lie, you absolutely have missed me.”

Oscar pretended to ruminate, tapping his chin and humming in contemplation. He squinted at the trees bordering the road. “No,” he decided. “Don’t think I have.”

He met Alek’s jovial expression with a deadpan mask, a runaway snicker rapidly developing into peals of laughter.

“Knew you were lying,” Alek said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Oscar replied, waggling his index finger in a circle. “Now turn back around before you bump into something and really give me something to laugh about.”

Beyond the shaded entryway, the restored and remodelled laboratory surfaced from the woodland. Landing pads and single-person pods aligned with the corresponding control centres, a watchtower bridge connecting the two hubs and the sentries on duty recognising them with a salute. Staff residences skirted the avenues, and observational greenhouses accommodated every variety of flora known to Myriad.

“Are you sure this is the same lab?” Alek asked, gaping at the sweeping architecture and the lively bustle. “It seems so... alive.”

“That’s what Professor Spark wanted. A collective effort in rebuilding the nine worlds.”

Guilt bit into Alek’s conscience. He had stayed away for so long that the place that kindled his sense of adventure became unrecognisable, a combined endeavour where he played the role of observer instead of participant.

By the steps to the research tower, angered green magic revolved around a spinning flail, the weapon lashing out in calculated strikes and the combatant focused on an invisible enemy. Engraved runes spat out heated cinders, the residue glinting from existence before it reached the ground.

“Esther,” Oscar called, motioning to their unexpected visitor. “Look who I found.”

Esther paused, hunching over her knees and gasping for breath. Rubbing the sweat from her brow, she welcomed the sight with a spirited smile and threw her arms around Alek.

Squeezing her close, the activated magic inside the dangling sphere of her weapon lapped at his cheek. “As glad as I am to see you, you might want to extinguish that,” Alek advised.

The jade light withdrew, and Esther attached the hilt to the clip on her belt. “Why did you not tell us you were coming?” she said. “We would have waited for you.”

“I would have called ahead, but this is all a bit spontaneous.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Fancied a change of scenery.” Alek gestured with a scarred hand to the courtyard and the ornamental features. “And what delightful scenery it is.”

“It is,” Esther agreed, “although Oscar may have overdone it with the decorations.”

Oscar stuck out his tongue at her, returning her playful grin with one of his own. “I’m going to continue with my work before you can slander my reputation even more,” he said. “I’ll meet you back up here for dinner. Try not to get yourselves into too much trouble.”

With promises of good behaviour and a proper reunion planned for the evening, Oscar retreated across the courtyard, waving over his shoulder and hurrying on his way.

“He told me you went to Grethune,” Alek said into the silent wake of their friend’s departure.

“Don’t,” Esther warned. “Oscar already lectured me about how I’m torturing myself for doing it.”

With raised palms of surrender and the countenance of a supportive friend, Alek quietened her concerns. “No judgement from me,” he promised. “I’m escaping my own tricky situation.”

“So you didn’t come here for the scenery?”

“Not exactly.”

“Pushy parents pushing too far?”

“That’s just for starters. The moment I got home, they wanted to know my plans. Every meal we had was a discussion about me applying for training with the Sunbreak Army, and the family gatherings... don’t even get me started on those. I thought I knew what I wanted to do when I graduated, but they’ve taken that dream and twisted it so much I don’t even recognise it anymore.”

Esther braced her hand behind her to lower herself onto the flight of steps. “I thought I knew what I wanted too,” she said, toying with the chain of her flail, “but when that time came, I realised that I kind of missed that sense of purpose I had when I was in Lumen. Over the past couple of years, I’ve found myself researching things for the sake of researching them, and I convinced myself that if I went back to Cavell, their position on mages might have changed enough for me to apply my knowledge there.” Grit rolled beneath the toe of her shoe, and she kicked the scattered grains away. “But it’s no different. I spent so long at the Academy certain of what I wanted, but after my time on Delorem, knowing there are other worlds to learn about and help out, I...”

“You had a taste of adventure and you don’t want to stop?” Alek guessed.

A grumbled hum droned behind Esther’s lips. “I don’t want to spend my life trapped in one little corner of Myriad.”

“You have an adventure buddy right here if you want the company,” Alek offered, a little too eagerly.

“You just arrived,” Esther pointed out. “Are you so keen to get back out there again?”

“More than anything,” Alek said, surrendering the tension in his muscles and finally listening to what his heart had been screaming at him all that time.

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