#areomancy

“Hey!” The sudden tone shift stabbed at his eardrum. “Have you been listening?”

Bones’s eyes flung wide open. “Yep.”

His grunt offered little confidence to Icarus, who shuffled nervously in response. “I’m not boring you, am I?”

“Nope.” Bones ran his hand through his hair, tugging gently at the fine hair at the base of his neck. Perhaps the mild pain would keep his mind working, just a little while longer at least. “Just got a lot to take care of.”

Icarus checked the time. 3:24 AM. They’d been standing at the edge of town for at least an hour now, and Bones hadn’t really moved at all. He hadn’t even taken a smoke break. Just stared at the lamp post, or otherwise hummed softly. “Uh, what exactly, if I might ask?”

Bones folded his arms back across his chest. “Personal business. Mostly.” He leaned his head back against the wall, taking a deep breath. The night air was a bit too hot to be reinvigorating. “Some work though.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me, but what is it that you do? I mean, I’ve spent some time around you and Reedsdale, but I just don’t get it. Can’t imagine what would lend you income in such a fashion.”

“Work ain’t always ‘bout money, kiddo.” Though being paid for some of this shit would be nice, Feathers. The thought seared his mind a bit, but what use would a god have for money? They didn’t respond, probably too busy watching the misery of the world to bother. “Besides, ya miss half of it when you’re dead and cold.”

“More like dead and hot down here. But I see you’re point.” Icarus sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You don’t have to keep secrets from me, who am I going to tell?”

“No one, but ya will write it down. And then who knows what will happen to it.” He closed his eyes again, if only to prevent himself from rolling them. “Besides, I ain’t too interesting.”

Icarus turned away slightly to avoid watching his friend yawn. “I can see that.”

Silence again took over the air, well as silent as the swamp could allow itself to fall. The bugs were calling in the distance, birds still were trying to out scream each other, not to mention occasional shift in the water lapping up against the banks. Though it there was some comfort in it, a familiar song Bones knew by heart. He held out his hand, down toward the side of his leg so it wasn’t in plain view, waiting expectantly. Any moment now, the air would shift. It was late enough. Though he couldn’t count on consistency or punctuality, he could count on patterns. And it was about that feel in the air. The tension was getting thick, hard to breathe. He briefly wondered if Icarus could feel this at all, not needing to use his lungs and all. He peeked with his eye, watching the red head wander around the few square feet of sidewalk around them, not wanting to stay still or stray too far. That restlessness would get him in trouble. Wonder what kind though.

The thought flashed out of his mind as a tightness built itself up against his shoulders, the feeling of magic suddenly becoming palpable. Each beat a spark of power coursing through him. Any second. Bones closed his eyes and reached out, feeling the space for any essence of power, no matter how miniscule. A drop, no more potent than a bee sting pulsed back in his mind. Moving fast too, toward them but still along the roadside. Did they need roads? Maybe they’re comfortable. Familiar.

His fingers twitched as he hummed, the few repeated chords of an ancient song he shouldn’t have known. But such fates were his duty. The sting of magic began trickling down his arm, a slight pulse began waking up is mind. “Bones?” Icarus’s voice tried its best to break his focus. “Are you okay?”

Would be better if you shut up for a flippin’ second. The sudden rustle of wind through the trees, a branch snapping made Icarus leap up. At the same moment, Bones snapped his hand forward, releasing a launch of energy from his grasp, purple and light tracing itself through the trees. He hummed a bit louder, willing the wind to come closer, to become part of him as it should have always been. For a moment, it agreed, swirling closer and around, bringing the small ball of power closer and closer. And for a second, he almost touched the wind’s hand, the good graces of Esc’lyr. The good graces of his own personal spirit. His hand closed, gripping tightly the potent power within.