Harvest 39, 855
Harvest brought thick snows around Scarred Lake, freezing the edges of the seemingly endless water into white glass. Trodden down paths crisscrossed the village, tracing the day to day lives of its occupants between each blizzard. No one had seen a new face since the snows began, so when the two matching sleighs stacked with grain pulled in from the West, the whole village turned out to see them.
Relief flooded Kavir when the driver agreed to take him onwards to Yanakavi, and back to Scarred Lake when they had finished their deliveries. They planned to camp within the safety of Three Lake University’s walls, and Kavir struggled to contain his eagerness to see Buu again.
Kavir fit in well at Scarred Lake. His strength and steady demeanor made him a natural leader and negotiator for the Red Birch refugees, and he enjoyed helping with what work he could find. Without his nephew or the lumbermill to whittle away all his time and attention, he had even managed to make a handful of friends, particularly the netmaker’s widow, Muru. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw her.
But throughout his stay at Scarred Lake, his mind always wandered back to Buu. Watching his only family walk into the cold with a monster on his heels had taken all of Kavir’s restraint. He had monitored Buu’s health since his birth, and knew that between the stress, bruises, and hiking through the cold, the boy would have been bedridden the moment he arrived at the University. Without a doctor, he would likely spend the whole season tucked away in bed, but with any luck, that Doctor Dian would be able to rouse him sooner than that.
He needed to see his nephew before he could feel truly settled, or even consider anything more than a friendship with Muru. He needed to know Buu was okay. He swore an oath to Buu’s parents to keep him safe, and every day he didn’t see the boy he could feel their ghosts breathing down his neck.
The sleigh ate up the miles to the university, its horses great brutes that seemed unbothered by the deep snow. They slowed as they approached the university’s walls, the crash and rumble of the animals quieting enough to hear the smooth hushing of the sleigh’s runners. The driver called up to the guards on the wall, negotiating entry as Kavir admired the structure’s massive timbers.
Soldiers emerged to thoroughly inspect the sleigh but waved them in when nothing suspicious appeared. As they pulled into a large square courtyard, Kavir stood on his seat for a good vantage point. A stream of excited students and staff came to meet the sleigh, asking about mail and negotiating having things brought to or from Yanakavi. The traders made regular visits to the area and watching their familiarity with the students warmed Kavir. He craned his neck, hoping to catch sight of a shorter figure among the crush.
“Master Yati?”
Kavir pivoted to see Aru looking up at him from the side of the sleigh with a bemused expression. She blended into the surroundings like a deer in the forest — not camouflaged exactly, but with a sense of belonging that made it easy to pass his eyes over her.
“Doctor Dian — hello! I’m glad to see you made it back in one piece. Did you have a safe journey?” Kavir resisted the urge to immediately ask about Buu. He learned his manners from his grandfather, and to ignore them would have been a dishonour. Besides, one minute would hardly make the difference after a moon of separation.
Aru gave him a knowing smile, nodding politely as she stepped back to make room for him on the ground. “We did, thank you. It took longer than I anticipated, but we made it without much trouble. I imagine you’re here to see Buu?”
“That I am. Is he up and about yet?” Kavir asked, climbing from the sleigh.
Aru began leading him towards a long, low building that stood apart from the others. She raised a brow at him in question and waved vaguely at another building.
“He’s been up for hours. An early riser that one. Always one of the first in line for breakfast, I can’t imagine him still being in bed this close to dinnertime. If we could just get him to study as well as he eats, we’d be all set.”
“If you can get him to study at all then you’re doing better than I managed.” Kavir scratched his head. “So… he’s up and about already? Healthy, I mean?”
Aru paused outside the doors to the squat building, one hand on the handle. She didn’t meet Kavir’s eyes.
“He took a couple of days to fully recover from his ordeal, but for the most part I think the university environment has been good for his health. He’s having a hard time adjusting, I think, but it’s my belief that his best chances at a long, healthy life are here.”
She pushed open the door, speaking over her shoulder as she navigated between rows of long tables and benches clogged with students. The smells of cooking fish and bread wafted through the space, making Kavir’s stomach growl.
“Do be sure to stop by the headmaster’s office before you go. I think he’d very much like to speak with you about Buu’s future and the opportunities here.”
Kavir’s heart skipped a beat and he had to resist the urge to pump his fist in the air. Buu would have little to no opportunities in Red Birch or Scarred Lake. His health made him more of a liability than an asset in more dangerous places, like the lumbermill, and his general frailty meant he could not reliably perform many other jobs. Perhaps he could have learned a gentle trade like netmaking, but he would find no better opportunities than at the university.
She stopped to bark across the bustling room. “Buu Yati! Someone is here to see you!”
Kavir grinned, scanning the room for his nephew, but it took him a moment to recognize the boy that ran towards him with arms flung wide. It had only been one moon, but Buu looked like a different person. He wore clean, soft student’s robes and he didn’t hide behind his hair, instead braiding it away from his face. Beyond those superficial differences though, he looked more real and solid than Kavir had ever seen him.
If Kavir had thought it possible, he would have said his nephew had grown two inches, the cavernous hollows of his little body filling in. He still wore dark circles beneath his eyes, and his smile remained unchanged, but Kavir could not shake the feeling he was seeing his nephew for the first time.
“Uncle! You made it!” Buu yelled as he flew into Kavir’s arms, squeezing tightly as Kavir scooped him into the air for a bear hug.
Kavir placed Buu gently on his feet, holding him at arm’s length to take in his transformation.
“Buu! You look incredible. I knew the school would be good for you, but this… wow!”
The change left a bittersweet taste in Kavir’s mouth. He had wished for Buu’s good health, day in and day out, for a third of his life. But seeing how quickly a new environment had changed his nephew, he couldn’t help but wonder what he had done wrong. He provided food, shelter, warm clothes — he even worked overtime to afford doctors whenever one came through the village. To know that something had worked… all his efforts seemed inadequate.
Buu didn’t let go of Kavir’s sleeves as his face puckered into a sour expression. “It’s… okay, I guess.” He glanced at Aru. “But I really want to come home with you.” Buu turned away from Kavir, his stance stiffening as he glared at someone behind him.
Kavir followed his gaze and spotted the monster, hulking and ember-eyed, sauntering towards them. His stomach dropped. It hadn’t occurred to him that the mages at the university wouldn’t have figured out how to sever the strange attachment the monster had grown for Buu. It took everything in him not to snatch Buu into his arms and flee from the creature. Instead, he only tightened his grip on Buu’s shoulder, keeping his face carefully neutral.
“I want that too…” Kavir murmured, locking eyes with the monster. It only smirked.
Buu let out a sigh that seemed too big for him, pivoting back to face his uncle. His shoulders slumped in resignation, and Kavir knew he understood that what they wanted didn’t outweigh the safety of the villagers. At least here mages might be able to keep the creature in check, or the soldiers could deter it from slaughter. Back home, they would be as vulnerable as a trembling fawn.
Indeed, while the students filling the dining hall gave the beast a wide berth, they seemed adapted to its presence already. Wary glances passed through the throng, but conversations continued, laughter echoed, and life went on. In fact, the monster that had slipped in and out of Kavir’s bloodiest nightmares for weeks hardly even caused a stir.
Buu seemed content to turn his back to the monster, his expression one of irritation rather than fear. Kavir tried to follow the boy’s lead, doing his best to ignore the midnight-black calamity only a few feet away. No matter how he tried, however, the creature still occupied a piece of his awareness like a dead branch, snapped and hanging.
“Are you hungry?” Buu asked, gesturing back to the table he had left, piled with hearty servings of fried fish and thick, buttery bread.
“I could eat.” Kavir hadn’t been that hungry before entering the cafeteria, but he found he could not resist the chance to try the more expensive fare served at the university.
Aru smiled at them, an air of distraction hovering around her like flies. “Why don’t I leave you two to catch up? Buu, I believe Headmaster Sanir will want to speak with your uncle before he goes, so can you take him to his office when you’re ready?”
Kavir caught the look that flew between his nephew and the professor, but he couldn’t untangle it. A sternness from Aru that seemed out of place and some reluctance from Buu. The look only lasted a moment before Buu nodded.
“I will.”
“Good.” Aru turned on her heel and beelined for the door, scooping up a slice of bread from one of the tables before making her exit.
Kavir followed Buu to his table, settling in across from him. Despite the busy nature of the nearby tables, Buu ate alone. The sight put an ache in Kavir’s chest. He took a little of the food Buu offered him, appreciating the first few bites in companionable silence before asking the question that had been plaguing him.
“I’m happy to see you so healthy. After what happened in the village, I thought you’d be out for a while.” He took another bite of fish, the salty, buttery taste flooding his mouth. He rose a brow in surprise and question when Buu began to fidget uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes. “Did the wizards have a cure for your condition? If I’d have known what a difference they could make I would have brought you here years ago. I’m sorry I—”
“No!” Buu interrupted, looking as if the word had fought its way free without permission. “No… you don’t have to be sorry. It’s not anything they’re doing. I don’t think bringing me here sooner would have helped and you shouldn’t feel bad about it. You did great and I’d much rather be back with you than living here.”
Kavir stared at Buu as he chewed, trying to put together a puzzle he didn’t have the pieces for.
“So, what is it then?” he asked.
Buu stared holes into the surface of the table before him. He went very still, like a deer deciding to stay or run after hearing a snapped twig nearby. Kavir had seen the same look whenever he caught Buu pushing his limits — climbing trees or trying to keep up with the other Red Birch kids.
“Well… it turns out… I kind of… have magic.” Buu winced as he spoke.
Kavir blinked, a tingle of cautious surprise spreading up his arms and spine. Having a mage in the family should have been good news… So why doesn’t this feel like good news? He reached out and gently placed one hand on Buu’s arm. “Okay… that’s a good thing… right?”
“Sort of?” Buu cleared his throat. “When I use my powers, I feel better… so yes… but…” Buu stared at the monster sitting nearby with a frown.
Kavir sat back, meal forgotten. Wiping his face with one hand and taking a deep breath, he let his eyes close for a long moment. How could he have missed something so huge? His nephew had magic? Magic that could attract something as dangerous as this coal-black creature? There would have been signs — must have been — but he spent too much time at the mill to notice.
“Everyone here has got to have magic, right? Why not you?” Kavir asked, keeping his voice calm and level.
Buu’s skin flushed darker from his collar to the tips of his ears. He glanced around as if making sure they wouldn’t be overheard before facing Kavir with a queasy look. His body curled in on itself as if he expected a blow.
Kavir’s chest ached to see his nephew so twisted up. Whatever this news, he resolved to make sure Buu knew it didn’t matter, that he would always support him. Kavir gave Buu’s arm another squeeze, smiling and nodding for the boy to continue.
“Well… my magic works different than theirs.” He looked like he wanted to stop there, but one glance at Kavir would have shown him that this conversation would not be ended that quickly. “I… well, they can do things like making illusions or starting a fire or growing a tree… normal magic stuff.”
“Whereas you…?” Kavir prompted.
“I… I can…” Buu paused, swallowed, and began again. “I can sense people’s heartbeats. I can slow them down or speed them up… or stop them… I can see ghosts, and… um… I can make dead things get up and do stuff. You know… walk around or fight or… just whatever as long as it’s simple.”
Kavir took a deep, shuddering breath as Buu spoke, doing his utmost to keep his face relaxed and compassionate while he screamed internally. His body grew rigid with tension as Buu listed his horrible abilities — like a villain from one of old lady Firas’ stories. Never taking his gaze from Buu’s downcast eyes, he waited with a desperate hope for a punchline, but the boy remained serious.
Not for the first time in the last nine years, Kavir wished Buu’s parents had survived to deal with their son. Kavir loved Buu fiercely, but he did not sign up for this. If he had moved a little faster, his brother and his wife might have lived out the night of Buu’s birth. If he had moved faster, Buu might have had a stronger start to guard him from illness as he grew. If he had moved faster, his nephew’s magic might not have become perverted by death.
Kavir took a deep breath, cursing himself as it caught in his throat, making Buu look up. Whatever the boy saw on his face made him flinch, and that one simple movement of fear brought Kavir back to himself. He could not frighten away his only family. Even though he had not asked for a son, Buu had not asked for his abilities either. They were stuck with the hands they had been dealt and, like always, they would weather their circumstances together.
“So you can do… these things, and that attracted the monster?” Kavir asked, holding onto Buu’s sleeve to ensure his nephew didn’t bolt. Buu only nodded. “Did the mages have any idea why your powers might be different?”
It was a selfish question. If the mages had told Buu something of his past, it might make it easier for Kavir to say what needed saying. The idea of starting from scratch exhausted Kavir to his bones.
Buu shook his head, frustrated tears glittering at the corners of his eyes. “No. They might have theories or something, but they don’t tell me anything. They treat me like I’m here for them to study. Not even like a person. Other than Aru, I don’t even really talk to the others anymore unless I have to for class.”
Kavir itched to ask how Buu found his classes — what topics he studied, if he had any friends — normal family things. He wanted to run from the past, from Buu’s news, as fast as his legs could carry him. More than anything in that moment, he wanted to be back at Scarred Lake with Muru, daydreaming about seeing his nephew in the spring. But Buu needed him to be stronger than that.
“I think I might have an idea.” Kavir forced himself to meet Buu’s curious eyes. “I think it’s time I finally told you the truth about what happened to your parents.”