Chapter Text
“If what she's talking about does happen, if I am out of control, you will stop the problem. I'm calling my favor. If it comes to that, you will stop me.
"Utterly.”
Ep. 131
True to his promise, Fjord had been watching Caleb through their battle with Lucien, chancing glimpses between his own attacks, but it was Essek who realized first that the eyes had spread and Caleb was no longer fighting on their side.
His first thought, when he saw Essek cast, was that Essek had been charmed by one of the eyes again. Then he recognised Hold Person, and watched Caleb only stiffen for a moment before shaking himself free from the spell and turning towards their complicated friend with cold set in his expression. Without letting himself really think, Fjord moved. Caleb was already injured. It wouldn’t take much to take him down, but maybe someday Fjord would be able to convince himself that he didn’t know that, and believe he’d thought his next move would only slow his friend down and redirect his fury.
Fjord knew where Caleb's chainmail undershirt ended. He aimed just below it.
Essek screamed, and Lucien was laughing, and Dwueth'var was heavy with the weight of a body that cut itself again on the blade as it slid off onto the bloody ground. Fjord fell too, onto his knees, sword vanishing into snow that quickly turned red.
Essek was throwing lightning at Lucien. Beau was yelling. He could feel the Wildmother’s fury in the air as Caduceus cast and then the Traveler’s satisfaction Jester followed through. He looked at the bloodied melting snow and thought of seawater gone just faintly murky with it, and Caleb, already injured, not hesitating to nearly commit his very life to Fjord's curiosity, his expression unreadable under the mask of his octopus familiar.
He didn’t look at anything else.
"Caleb. I'm sorry."
Caduceus reached them first, kneeling to cast Gentle Repose, and that was how Fjord realized the fight must be over. Jester sat at Fjord’s side, spilling an armful of weasel onto Caleb’s chest and saying, “Caleb? Caleb, you're going to be okay.” Then, to her patron, “Come on, man, you missed the whole fight. You got to be here for Caleb.”
Fjord felt again the mingling of divine magics as both clerics cast, their hands on the diamond joined by a green and spectral third pair, and a fresh breeze stirring the windless air of the astral sea. The diamond vanished into a faint glittering and the sharp peppermint smell of Jester’s magic.
Caleb breathed, and Fjord felt like he could breathe again too.
Caduceus patted Caleb’s shoulder. “Welcome back, Mr. Caleb.”
Jester let out a shaky “You're okay,” as she pulled him up to sitting.
Unthinking, Fjord grabbed his hand, palm to palm again. Caleb turned to face him.
“Ah, did I hurt anyone?”
“No. I– I was q-quick.” And in another few seconds, Caleb would have been alive again longer than he’d been dead. Time was moving on without any regard for its contents. He’d killed Caleb.
“Thank you.” Caleb gripped his hand tighter. “Thank you.”
Caleb looked like he wanted to lie back down, but Veth appeared and threw herself into hugging him. Jester hugged them both. Fjord stood slowly, releasing Caleb’s hand so he could properly hold them back.
Caduceus glanced up at Fjord as he joined the hug too. Fjord opened his mouth to say – he didn’t know what – but as soon as he made eye contact Cad looked away and resolutely pretended to only be watching the thankful motes of light floating up and away from the ruined city.
—
After Caleb decided to try to raise Molly, Fjord went looking for their stolen bag of holding. There was a hole, not quite a neat tear, in the back of Caleb’s coat. It wasn't quite as wide as the Star Razor’s blade. Apparently it hadn’t quite gone all the way through. If he stayed, he wouldn’t be able to stop looking at it.
It occurred to him he’d last seen the bag in the chamber with the Somnovem and the intuit charges. The landscape had changed so much since then, he’d probably never get back to it.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, said the lights, but he couldn’t feel like they were talking to him, and neither the Wildmother nor Exandria would thank him if he misplaced a piece of Ukatoa’s key. If the bag was lost, he’d have failed them.
The light ringing of the bells on her horn caps preceded Jester’s approach. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Caleb–”
“I’m just looking for our bag of holding, but I guess we lost it underground.”
“Oh.”
“The eye – I mean, the Cloven Crystal – I’m responsible for it.”
“Right, of course.” She patted his shoulder. “And it’ll be okay, you know?”
He’d only done what Caleb had asked him to do. Given a few more seconds, he would have attacked Essek, and gods knew Caleb carried enough guilt already. He was all right now. He was alright. This pact had brought no lasting harm.
With a shwiff of air, the bag of holding popped out of the ground at their feet.
“How did you–?”
“I got a good imagination.” Jester’s tail was perking up a bit with pride.
He knelt down and reached inside. The cloven crystal. Something cold and rounded came to his hand. He pulled it out and the old yellow stone eye looked back at him. He quickly put it back, and stood and hugged her.
“Thank you.”
“Of course Fjord.” She squeezed him tight. “Hey, let’s go, I want to help with the ritual when it’s time.”
Fjord let her take his hand and lead him back to the group.
—
Caleb was casting with movements deft and confident, his magic stone beginning to glow.
“Hey. Fjordy.”
He startled and looked down at Veth, who made a show of trying to cover herself up. “Are you looking down my shirt?”
“What?”
“It just ripped like this during the battle, I don't know what to tell you.”
He looked away and pretended to be sarcastic. “I’m glad you survived.”
“You too. Anyway. I’m just telling you I forgive you.”
“Oh.” He’d been so caught up in himself that it hadn’t even occurred to him yet that he’d hurt the others as well, and now that he had a piece of forgiveness he wasn’t sure he deserved it. Imagine Veth without Caleb. “I’m sorry.”
“To be honest, I probably wouldn’t have forgiven you if he wasn’t alright now, but, you know, we all knew Jester had him, right?
He laughed without humor. “Right.”
She looked up at him critically, and Fjord tried to keep his expression mild. He must not have gotten it quite right, because she sighed and added, “And please believe I’m only saying this because you’re clearly on the edge of a breakdown, but you’re a pretty alright guy.”
“...Thank you.”
“Okay. Yeah. Get down here.”
He frowned. “What?”
“I’m giving you a hug. Get down here.”
He knelt and let her hug him, surprised to wish for a moment he was Luc-sized. Veth patted as far behind his back as she could reach.
“He’s going to forgive me too, isn’t he?
“Yeah, he’ll forgive you. I mean, I don’t really think he’s mad.”
“Maybe he should be.”
“Hey, hey. I’ve got enough sad wizards, I don’t need you joining in, too.”
“...Thanks. I–”
“Shh. Don’t ruin the moment.”
“You can take your face out of my pecs now.”
“Shhh.”
—
This resurrection failed.
Fjord had accepted Molly’s death months ago, and now they’d lost him again, no softer a feeling for its familiarity. Without losing its shocked edge, the conversation was already turning to the hill beside Glory Run Road, or the Blooming Grove, and a second burial. WIth shaking fingers and a steady voice, Caleb was setting up his Vault of Amber spell, but for once their second wizard wasn’t trying to watch him cast.
Here was something that perhaps Fjord could help. He followed Essek away from the group, and lowered his voice: “Are you all right?”
“It’s not fair.” He was crying. It hurt to watch. “It’s not fair.”
“No.” Fjord wondered if they ever grieved in Essek’s city of rebirth. What would Caduceus say right now? He glanced over for inspiration, but Cad avoided his eye again.
Essek wiped at his face, staring resolutely off into the astral sea. “We’ve all come so far. It’s just not fair.”
“It rarely is.” Shit, that wouldn’t make anyone feel better. What did Essek need to hear?
Caleb thought he and Essek were alike, but Fjord couldn't deny that he felt it as well. Some of the same parts of himself – the practicality, need for power – that he’d long seen in Caleb were in Essek too. Gods knew what he’d almost become for the opportunity for power, for magic; Essek had only taken the extra step and actually done it.
What would he need to hear? That he was cared for nonetheless.
“You did more for us, and for him, than most anyone we know.”
Essek glanced back at him, expression twisting for a moment in the direction of a wavering smile– then Fjord all too distinctly saw him flinch. His expression smoothed and hardened. He twisted his hand and cast, and the fine blood spray across the front of Fjord’s coat misted up and away into the starry sky.
“Ah.” He remembered Essek’s scream. One would have thought he’d been attacked instead.
Essek looked away again. "I appreciate your words. But I don't think I can, hm.”
“I’ll just. Give you some space.”
“Yes. So.” Without another word, Essek floated away from him. Fjord turned and walked back to lurk near the rest of the group.
Veth looked up at him as he approached. “Where's Essek going?”
“I don’t know? Taking a walk?”
“Mad at you?”
“You could say that.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“You don’t have to–”
“I’ll talk to him.”
She left. Jester was occupied in consoling and being consoled by Yasha. Beau wrapped and unwrapped Molly’s belt around her knuckles. Caduceus wasn’t anywhere near him.
Fjord settled down on the greying fleshy ground by the body of their friend and closed his eyes, trying to let Caleb’s murmured ritual casting settle him as it had so many times before.
It wasn't working this time.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, said the sky.