Catalyst

When Xenron had awoken, he was groggy and hungry but even still, he felt pulled to his list. He read over all the things he’d wanted to do, then lingered on the first for a long time.

Get to really know all the amazing people in the KEY program.

For a minute, he couldn’t stop staring. This, alongside the sense of loss upon waking, puzzled him, but he shook it off. He’d already decided there was but one way to handle his dread - working his plan. Then he took his cold shower - now a habit - and dressed for the day - or rather, mostly for the night. When he looked out a window at how low the sun was, he realized he’d slept through not only the morning, but also most of the afternoon.

This was because it was his first “long sleep” of the Survival Gauntlet - he’d made it to the end of three exhausting days and finally eaten his fill after his final training session. Of course, that session consisted of…

Xenron almost grimaced. After confronting Bruce and hearing Ken out, Xenron turned to dummy training, practicing his freehand strikes for what became hours of venting. He had succeeded - but that didn’t turn off the anxiety in his mind. If anything, Xenron was holding his breath for something to go wrong. At some point, most of the negative emotions had burned up in that furious pursuit of strength - but that mental rush kept him up well into the night. By the time he ate plate after plate of chicken, sannhets, potatoes, and mixed vegetables, then dragged his weary, nauseatingly full body up to bed… it was no wonder he woke so late. He felt grateful for the chefs’ encouraging expressions, for the ‘good luck’ written in a lime green sauce on his plate. Still, after all that, he was still not entirely free of his anxiety. How could he be? He had to train with Bruce - under scrunity - in his current state. He’d taken a risk beyond any justification. The worst part was, he couldn’t even really regret it.

Physically, the night’s rest had done its work. Xenron could feel more strength in all his movements as if some external force guided his limbs through punches, snapping away air with their force. His breathing was deeper and sharper. Of course, compared to severe exhaustion anything would be euphoric, but he still felt proud of this first incremental leap. He would not let doubt ruin this moment, he decided.

Grinning, Xenron went to dinner. This was his last “full” meal before going back into the Gauntlet, and he devoured the egg noodles in front of him hungrily, praising the chefs for the savory smell already winning him over. It was in that nirvana that he noticed Leo poking idly at his own noodles.

***

“I know you like analyzing things,” Xenron said, “but your stomach will do a better job picking the noodles apart.”

Leo looked up and raised one eyebrow at me. “You’re more sassy than usual.”

“I am,” Xenron said, shrugging. “And you’re even more distant than usual.”

He sighed. “You’ve got me. Director Vaere decided that we should learn the classics, and naturally he asked for volunteers. So, somehow I ended up cast as Richard in the Epic of Xexherre.”

“Good for you, man!” Xenron said, grinning at him. “That’ll be exciting. You’re smart, so you should have no trouble memorizing your lines.”

“Just because I’m “smart” doesn’t mean everything’s so easy, Xenron,” Leo said before returning to his distant gaze to some bean sprouts. For a long moment, Xenron looked down at his food, too, dejected. He’d messed up - just because Leo was competent didn’t mean Xenron could write off his friend’s worries. Luckily, with Xexherre’s story in mind, Xenron had a good example for what to do next.

“Everyone struggles with something,” Xenron said. “Why don’t we practice the lines together?”

A smile came a left Leo’s face briefly. “But you don’t need to learn the lines. I don’t want to waste your time.”

Xenron waved his hand dismissively, giving Leo a conspiratorial grin. “Ms. Vale’s going to kill me if I don’t start learning my history properly. I’ll probably be more motivated if I know the major players well.”

“They were ressive people, and we wouldn’t want to disappoint your tutor.” Leo looked like he was turning the idea over, then nodded.

Xenron was less keen on the idea when he realized he had to play Xexherre for the scene. The contrast between him and the supreme prodigy that some revered as God was striking. But he’d made his bed - and decided to lay in it. Leo saw through him, certainly, but both knew that Xenron needed to follow in the first Xexen King’s example.

As Xenron started reading through the script, it wasn’t as bad as he expected. The Epic was really the first of a trilogy, and Leo wanted to practice a scene from Xexherre’s youth. While he had always been something more than man, the person in this scene felt almost relatable. Xenron studied his lines diligently and mouthed them to get a feel for the words. Before he knew it, he felt like they had taken a step into the far past.

***

“I’m going to catch the biggest fish in the sea, just you watch!” ‘Xexherrre’ declared proudly. Then, he pulled one arm back and extended it in front of him, the line extending awkwardly.

“What are you doing?” Leo asked.

“I’m fishing! It says specifically in the script that I should be casting my line at this moment,” Xenron replied, annoyed at the character-break.

“That’s not how you cast a line… and besides, you don’t need to do all that.”

“You’re not thinking like Richard. Richard would be casting a line.”

He sighed, then pulled both arms back and to one side, then extended them in a snapping motion. Xenron studied the motion, then barely held back from calling him too presumptuous when Leo started reeling his line in right away.

“I’m watching,” Leo said sullenly, and Xenron realized he needed to slip back into character.

“Good,” Xenron said, jabbing Leo playfully with an elbow. “I’ll have an absolute monster in a snap, so don’t blink!”

Then, he jerked his arms back hard. “I’ve got it!” And the thrill of the moment - the imagined ‘success’ of pulling in the largest fish, and the reason behind trying, washed over Xenron, and in a surreal way, he was there. Hearty and strong, he stood at the end of a rocky outcropping, sun giving him a farmer’s tan as the sweet sea breeze tousled his hair. Xenron grinned with a confidence transcending his own.

“There’s no way,” Leo - no, Richard said skeptically. But his mouth was quirked with the beginnings of a smile.

Xexherre pulled harder, the waves crashing hard on the untamed shore. If he didn’t move just right, they could snap him right off of the rocks. “It’s mine!” With one more jerk - Xexherre recoiled back, shaking his head around as he collapsed into a heap on the stone. Richard broke out laughing, which was good. It was just as it had been in every movie, play, and novel.

“A boot? There’s hardly anyone out all this way! How did you manage t0 reel in a boot?” he said, still wheezing almost too hard to make a sentence.

“I meant to do that,” Xexherre said proudly. “I’ve got to clean up these waters if the people are to make a proper life here,” he continued with a wink. Richard just kept laughing until the spark of mirth had settled down, and in this time Xexherre came to sit beside him, both of them unafraid of the tides. “It’s good to see you laugh, friend. You haven’t been yourself today,” Xexherre continued. Turning his hand over with a flourish, he let the boot - really just mana construct - disappear into a blue mist and then nothing.

“You took a fake boot to the face just to make me laugh? Perhaps I am getting old too fast.”

“There’s no arguing that, Richard. But you seem especially so today. What ails you?”

As his friend gave a practiced sigh and held his chin, Xenron could practically see Richard’s worn fingers stroking his thick brown beard. Not like it was in the movies. He felt he saw the truth of it, of his weariness, in Leo’s performance. “You’ve got me, of course. I just can’t stop thinking about what Aris and his group have been saying lately.”

Xexherre frowned. “That fool? He must have challenged the council again if you’re thinking about this so hard.”

“Not directly anymore. He’ll shout angrily to captive tavern audiences about how they’re tyrannical, behind the times, and how we’d better be rid of them. No one’s intervened for fear of making the situation worse. Aris does himself as much disservice as good with his rambling, but what if we made him a martyr?”

“You see him as that dangerous?” Xexherre reeled his line in all the way, then sat down, holding the rod between his hands, thinking. “You’re right that even arresting Aris would mean a lot of trouble. But he’s not doing anything as things are, is he? He does have a couple of good points - the current curfew is unnecessary.”

“You’re underestimating Xexen mob mentality, Xexherre,” Richard said, pulling up a chair next to his friend. “See that wave? Xexen emotion is like that - building and building, feeding off of each other, until something makes it crash.” The to-be King pictured all of Aris’ demands building up in that wave and got a brief chill. “He’s talked about taking blood lately.”

“I won’t let him. I swear to you,” Xexherre said seriously.

“You’re stronger than him, Xexherre. But you can’t stop him from killing someone before you get there.”

Xexherre fell silent for several moments, rod falling from his hands before he slammed shaking fists on his thighs. Through the ages his anger roiled in Xenron - the familiar anger of powerlessness. “Friend, I understand that you enjoy indirect communication. I do not. I suggest if you have a purpose besides upsetting me, I would have you see to it.”

“Of course,” Richard said. “But I did not think you would be amenable to a direct approach this time - previously you have refused a seat on the council. But if you sat there, the young generation’s concerns could be heard from a reasonable voice, and the mob would be placated. No one would have to die.”

Xexherre sighed heavily. “Why should it be me, Richard? I’m young, inexperienced, and I always let my emotions get the best of me. You would be much better suited to lead.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “You can’t fight the waves, Xexherre. You’re a brave man that speaks from his mind and heart sincerely, and always looks for what’s best for everyone. Everyone who meets you tries to be a little more like you - I can see it in the young children already. You’re the one we need. And I’ll be right behind you - supporting you through it all, if you’ll have me.”

“Do you mean you’d be my advisor?” Xexherre said, grabbing onto Richard’s hands like they were a life raft. A large wave crashed over them, but the to-be ruler did not flinch. “Could you?” he asked in an uncharacteristically small voice.

“Of course,” he said, incredulous. “I’m not saying you need to do this alone.”

“Richard,” Xenron said, a single genuine tear twinkling in each eye, “thank you.”

***

“Xenron, are you okay?”

“Yes… thanks, Leo. You’re really good at this,” Xenron said, smiling through the freely flowing tears.

“That was quite a lot better than reading alone,” he said, returning the grin. “So it was a lot easier to find the character. And you’re pretty amazing yourself, Xenron. I’m impressed you hit all the emotions in that scene with so little practice.”

“There wasn’t much practice to do - that wasn’t acting,” Xenron said, and Leo nodded his understanding. Thinking of his dread on waking - no, the dread he still carried, he let the mask crack.

“I want to run something by you,” Xenron said. Leo heard him out, and while that still didn’t bury his dread, he felt more like a person by the end of their talk. He had to keep moving forward - and now, he thought he could. He could, even, relax his clenched hands - just a little. He had his heading. All that was remained was to face Bruce.