Some nights-- the really cold ones, where there's nothing between the stars and the earth-- Pyroc is convinced he could see the moons breath. Could see her huffing out a beautiful lunar fog, sweeping across the cosmos in a rolling gust. Other nights she's just a big rock floating in space, which is also pretty cool.
He loves her. The moon that is. She might always be changing, but she's also always been present. That means the world to him, he thinks as he smiles into his mug, looking out over the wide view under his feet. He brought the mug with him from the cottage. It was his favourite one, big and green, the perfect shape. Orion didn't seem to mind, even though it was technically his.
A breeze brushes against the long tips of his ears and they twitch. He feels his fire flare up, warming him on the chilly September night. He huffs out his own breath, joining the moon in casting short lived gusts skittering across the air.
Pyroc had climbed out his window the instant he dropped his bags on the floor. The harvest moon was heavy and calling his name. He magicked up some hot water and some tea leaves (which never tasted as good as fresh but he wasn't unpacking tonight). Then he pulled out the snatched mug, and shimmied out the window and onto the fire escape. He was given a teachers quarters right by where he would be assisting, in the little lab that was attached to the main tower like a kid had been given some popsicle sticks and crammed it into the side of their lego creation.
It was a sore sight on the side of the tall building in the otherwise picturesque valley. It was positioned directly above a small lake, supposedly so they could detach the whole thing if a fire sprung up, and could let gravity, water, and some enchantments take care of it, post-evacuation.
Luckily, the moon and the ground below made up for what he had his back pressed up against. It was really something to be working in a place nestled into the side of a mountain this tall; surrounded by forest and large grass plains, cut through in a slow steady way by a wide thrumming river. The wide valley had huge biological range, and because it was so isolated the genetics of a lot of the animals here had evolved differently from the rest of the world. Somethings were a lot bigger, others smaller, some brighter colours and still more with strange adaptations to their beaks or eyesight in ways that hadn't been studied properly yet.
Pyroc grinned and looked out over the wide space.
No matter what kind of research he'd end up doing here, at least it would be in a beautiful place. He huffed and drank deep from his mug.
Seeing the lab even from a distance was enough to fill him with a tightly wound, vibrating energy in his chest. It was floating above the lake, the fog obscuring the support struts.The bridge leading into the lab jutted out of the side that lashed it to the main building was easy enough to ignore when faced with a sweeping arches and grand looking windows. It had a few stories built into it, three or four at most.
He had heard talk of a giant library, massive herb gardens, and a kiln room so large they had a map at the entrance... He'd be happy here. This school would be good for him.
The moon beamed down, and Pyroc felt like, just maybe, it was possible. And then he felt a ping . He sighed. Back to work it was, then.
***
It had been an incredibly light night, comparatively. He scrambled back into his room, lifting his mug into the air, expelling a small bit of his magic to have it hover there while he rummaged through his bags, holding the ping in his chest as long as he could, felt it wavering.
Letting out a triumphant squawk , he found his votive candles. He clumsily set them up in the right pattern before reaching up into his flames and pushing a bit to the tip of his finger. Slowly, careful not to make the same mistakes as he had before, he lit each of the candles in the proper order.
Right, left, two bottom, two top, and then center.
The overwhelming smell of lily of the valley swept over him, and warmth of sun on cracked earth, the feeling of sidewalk chalk caked under fingernails, the sound of a sprinkler. He felt the ping slowly crystallize in his chest, growing solid and sharp, rising up his throat until it was ready to escape. He opened his mouth, and a voice that wasn't his bubbled up.
" Hello Vindlesnap! My name is Lillian. " here the speaker paused for a second, " I'm-- my teacher hasn't exactly told me how all this works yet but... I really wanted to try. " A small shuddering breath, stealing themselves, " I was hoping you could make my mom a little less lonely? She said she wouldn't miss me too much while I was at school but-- she sent me with a bunch of letters to open when I got sad and I didn't give her any back because I was about to go out the door and the bus was there and-- and I feel really bad. So, I know it's really late and maybe you're asleep-- do the gods sleep? I'll have to ask Mr. Rockwell but... yeah. I was just hoping you could send her some nice feelings. Thanks, Vindlesnap. I promise I'll send her a bunch of letters the first time mail goes out and you won't have to do this again. Okay, uhm. Goodnight, I guess! "
He prepares for the feeling of the end of a prayer, but his mouth opens again, an afterthought, " Thank you!"
He can't help the smile from rising up, turning to a grin as the prayer pops within him.
These kinds were his favourite, soft and full of love. It left him feeling whole and strong for days afterward. Closing his eyes, clinging to the fingerprint he had got with the start of the prayer, he reached out for Lillian's mother who had been trying to sleep for hours unsuccessfully. At the moment she was cleaning the grout in the kitchen and ignoring how quiet the house was. All of the windows were thrown wide open, a few crickets playing outside, breeze blowing in with the last of summer on it's breath. Her hands were beginning to ache, knuckles raw from the chemicals and friction. It kept her mind quiet, as quiet as the big house around her.
Softly and carefully, Pyroc let the suggestion of music flicker into her mind, Lillian's favourite maybe.
The elf woman smacked her hands on her pants, drying her fingers best she could before huffing and standing up-- careful not to slip on the fresh floors. She adjusted her hair wrap and put on Lillian's favourite music, sat in their biggest armchair, and fell right to sleep, dreaming fondly of the last day she spent with her child and the chalk drawings they had made, until the next school break.
Pyroc blinked hard and blew out the candles on the floor. He stood, resolving to put them away when he was less exhausted, and flopped back into his bed, hoping for no more late night calls.
He looked up at the ceiling, so different from the cottage. It was a white stucco, which he kind of hated. The cottage had solid wood panels and timbers, slightly unfinished, maybe, but very homey.
It had been a long day of travel, a lot of walking. Orion needed his horse, and neither of them knew how to drive, and even if they had, Pyroc wouldn't have wanted the other man to drop him off. It was a long trip to double, and they would have had to spend the whole time together with no distractions.
Something had been just wrong enough to show on his radar the last few days. Orion wasn't exactly a vocal person, but he was always warm. His temperature had shifted down a few degrees after Pyroc told him he'd been offered the teaching job after all.
Probably because he didn't want to have to go back to running the farm by himself, he reasoned sleepily. Pyroc had been there and helping for a few months now. More than enough time to get spoiled by sleeping in late and knowing someone else could go feed the chickens.
In the middle of his dream about tossing the special seed and herb mix he had been perfecting to the chickens, he was awoken by another ping .
He huffed and got out of bed, reaching for his flames again before the noises sounded again-- a very present pounding at his door, not a ping at all. He frowned, flicking the flame from his finger with a little flare. He wished his door had a peephole.
He cautiously reached out with his magic, slowly guiding it under the doorway, feeling for recognition. The person standing their hadn't cast magic in a while and their fingerprint wasn't fresh enough to recognize.
Somehow, though, there was a scrap of recognition, something like charcoal in the back of his throat, persistent and choking warm. He opened the door.
The person standing their inhaled sharply, hissing through their teeth, before lunging at him, fists raised, swinging.
Pyroc yelped and tried to duck, but the person got a few solid hits in before he caught their wrists, and looked closely at their face.
"... Cinder ?"
"You absolute brat, Pyroc!" His sister screamed. He tried to hush her, looking quickly around the hallway. Luckily, the students hadn't moved in yet still a week away from the start of term. He slammed the door quickly and turned back to Cinder, who he now realized was both crying and looking the angriest he had ever seen her. Which was really saying something.
"What are you doing here?" He hissed.
"I work here Pyroc! You think when I hear that my baby brother is somehow back from the fucking dead and taking on a teaching position at my school that I'm not going to double check?" Her eyes were almost as aflame as the top of her head, the fire billowing straight and tall, a sure sign she was furious, in case he couldn't already tell as much. "Are you serious , Pyroc? No text? No letter? Not even a facebook message -- are you serious ?"
"Oh uh... hm."
"That's all you have to say to me?"
"I'm... sorry?"
Cinder held his gaze, looking completely unimpressed. She had sharp eyeliner on, her gold eyes sparking under red shadow. As per usual, she was dressed to the nines, even to confront her dead little brother at well past midnight on a Wednesday.
"Okay, I'm really sorry? It slipped my mind, Cinder! Things have been really out of whack lately and trying to keep everything under control has been taking so much concentration--"
"And yet you had time to write a resume ?!" Her hair flared high, licking against the ugly stucco ceiling.
He held up his hands, protecting from the flame or to calm his sister down he wasn't sure which. "Okay I absolutely should have contacted you before I submitted a resume here you're right --"
"I'm on the hiring board, Pyroc! You didn't even use a fake name--! "
"Okay, I'm totally an asshole! I'm sorry!"
Her hair sparked before floating down to its normal length, close to her scalp and sharp. "Yes. You are."
"Is that really all you needed to hear?"
"Mostly. And also what on earth happened to you. And do this." She pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing as tight as she always did, two parts affection, one part her inherent violence. Pyroc sighed into her perfume and pulled her close.
"I missed you." He says, quiet into her ear. He could feel her smile against his shoulder, brief but big.
"I missed you too, asshole."
"I was helping the mothman out on his farm."
She drew back, unimpressed again, holding him at an arm's length. "You where what."
"Helping out the mothman on his farm."
"Are you serious?"
Pyroc nods, grinning a little, "His name is Orion."
"Orion."
"Mhm."
"Okay." She sighed. "Okay, why don't you tell me all about the mothman at breakfast. You look like shit, please get some sleep before you scare all your new coworkers and the children."
Pyroc snorted. He always looked good, Cinder was just still pissed. "Okay. Tomorrow morning than."
She turned to go, pausing at the door, "I'm glad you aren't dead, Pyroc."
He beamed at her, "Yeah, me too. Talk to you tomorrow. Sleep tight."
"Sleep tight, idiot." And she was out the door.
Pyroc crawled back into bed, and went back to sleep for a few more short hours.