Weight of Worlds

Ranvir rolled his shoulders and took a lap around the field they’d been sitting in. The last time he’d tried to sense space at night, it hadn’t gone well. Or rather, it hadn’t gone at all. He’d picked a pretty wind still evening, not a lot of noise going around. Of course, the light was pretty much as gone as it got.

All the interferences that would previously be in the way weren’t missing. So he spent half an hour trying to sense space and getting precious little but the lingering light from the Goddess’ eyes. The two moons barely bright enough to see the field he was sitting in.

He didn’t want to think that he was going to go through another session like that, but there wasn’t much else to it. Keeping his hands by his side, he poked inwards and wedged open tether-space. It was… getting easy wasn’t the right word, faster would be more precise.

Whenever he wasn’t pressing against his chest, he needed more effort to enter tether-space, but he was getting faster. At this point, he was almost as fast as with his hands. Small smile crept onto his face, as he edged onto that teetering point between embracing the pressure and tether-space.

He felt a tiny net. He knew this was space. There was no doubt in his mind that what he was feeling in that liminal stage was space, but if he took that one step further and let the pressure in, he could no longer sense it.

The world rushed in as tether-space took up its familiar spot in the back of his mind. The net was gone and with it, that sense of everything. Instead, he could sense the slight changes in the wind caused by his movement, the small amount of light filtering down to him. There was still quite a bit, and it was ever present all around him. Just not in the same intensity.

It felt like the difference between sensing one of the third year light students and Master Ayvir. They were similar, but one of them held the raging power of the sun and the other was a campfire.

“Sorry, can we talk?”

Ranvir nearly fell over as a voice called out, yanking him from his thoughts. His heart raced at searched for the source of the sound. He had to force himself to take in a few deep breaths. There was no running from him.

“Did I surprise you? I’m sorry.”

Dovar was standing on the other side of the field from Ranvir. There was plenty of space between them. Enough that Ranvir considered running, but not so much that he could actually outrun Dovar. Even if he wasn’t already at the Flesh of Smoke.

Ranvir bit his lip. A part of him wanted to ream out of Dovar for even talking to him. A distinct part remembered Dovar doing work on both Sansir and Grevor at the same time. That part also remembered that Dovar was better than six and a half foot tall, and might very well still be growing.

A shiver of unidentifiable deep purple ran through Ranvir from the groun-

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Dovar said. “I saw you out here and wanted to clear the air.”

“Clear the air? About assaulting me? Breaking my nose? Cold-front?” Ranvir felt his blood rise in echo with a tint of red settling over him.

“Yes. I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have hit you, especially not like that. I’m sorry that they call you names.”

“It’s okay.” Ranvir waved a hand as to show how little it actually bothered him. “I got over pretty quickly. It’s sort of become a nickname.” He lied.

“Oh, Cold-front…” Dovar furrowed his brow. “I guess that would work better for an ice tethered, but if it’s recognized among friends-”

“Was that all you wanted?” Ranvir asked, cutting him off.

Dovar took in a sharp breath, his brows dipping into a brief frown. “I take it you’re still angry, then.”

“Not everybody has to get along.”

Dovar took a step forwards, sending a shudder of deep purple through Ranvir again, this one accompanied with a complimentary darker shade of violet that held the definite tinge of fear. His hair seemed to vibrate with the sensation.

Dovar took in another deep breath, rubbing a pair of fingers over his nose. “Why are you making this so difficult? Do you like being contrary? Getting in the way?”

“I enjoy getting in the way of arrogant nobles who think they can simply wave a hand and say sorry, as if it’ll actually fix anything.” The red tint intensified, seeming to gather like mist in Ranvir, as he waved his arms to emphasize his words.

“I don’t know you! And you don’t know me.” Dovar Insisted.

“I know you! I can see it on your face when you look at me! You think you’re better? Well, you’re fucking not! You think just because you’re above the law that we don’t see it? That we’re blind?” Ranvir replied, his voice heated. Red rain fell relentlessly within him, like an endless curtain of crimson blood spilling on the barren earth of his soul. Ranvir was shaking as he glared at Dovar, his face flushed.

“You don’t know anything about me! How can you act so confident, when you’ve never met me!” Dovar wasn’t yelling, though that didn’t make him any less intense. His eyes were wide open, showing the iris all the way around. Striations ran the length of his neck and vein pulsed thickly in his forehead. “You lift one hand and pretend like you know me and judge me for it. Then lift the other and claim to be better. Guess what? You can pretend all you like, but I’ve worked harder for longer than you’ve ever done. I’ve suffered through-“

“Spare me, you pretentious fuck.” Tears were forming in Ranvir’s eyes. He couldn’t stop them and it only made him angrier. “You’ve always got people watching your back. When was the last time you fucked something up? Huh? Did daddy come and save you? Maybe he had a paltry sum of money sent to pay them off, to keep it secret? Blame it on a merchant?” Ranvir was heaving for breath, tears falling freely, as the bedrock of his soul tore open, revealing a bloody and weeping wound adding to the blood pooling on the ground.

Ranvir clutched a shaking hand around his necklace, his throat so thick he couldn’t continue speaking.

They’d been walking together. His mother had been in a hurry since the stew had already been bubbling away back home. They just needed to grab a few things before dinner was ready.

He remembered the driver’s panicked yell, the whinnying screams of the horses.

His mother getting thrown to the ground just feet in front of him. The gut wrenching noise of wood grinding through flesh and bone.

He remembered the flickering light of the sun, reflecting off the gold embossed ‘something’ on the carriage as it blurred past. How it jumped slightly, like his mom was just another uneven rock on the road.

The shock of seeing his mom like that, her leg mixing with the recently wet dirt from rain clouds still slipping away into the horizon.

The next day the mayor had showed up, she’d come carrying ‘gifts’. She dropped the weregild, the blood money, off with his father. Ranvir didn’t remember everything she said. He just remembered her mentioning the merchant company. ‘They were hauling goods,’ she’d said.

But he’d seen the carriage. And it had been a carriage, not a wagon. Others might’ve forgotten, but Ranvir did not. Would not forget. Could not forget. It had been a carriage, and it hadn’t been hauling no ‘goods’.

When he told his dad, Gunnor just nodded. “The Mayor knows that too, but we need to keep it quiet for now. Okay? They’re very sorry, but they’ve also paid for mom’s medicine and needs for a long time.”

Ranvir had agreed, like an idiot, but he’d agreed. He kept his word to his dad for so long he even started referring to them as merchants in his head. Over time, the pain had been buried. Hidden underneath years of lying to himself, rationalizing that it couldn’t have been a noble, and fearing what would happen if he tried to accuse a noble. But in his heart he’d remember the gold embossed wolf’s head set on a black carriage.

Ranvir moved on. His mother got better. Life returned to her eyes. They made the rings, and he was learning from her about something she was passionate about. He got his mom back, mostly. Everything was okay.

Until one comment from Dovar brought it all back. Ranvir couldn’t even remember what he’d said, just that it made him so furious.

“Mom.” He hugged himself even tighter as the tears came.

“Ranvir.” Dovar’s voice was soft, quiet and uncomfortable. Hearing it sent another shock through Ranvir, dark violet fear paling into bleached purple. He was being seen by Dovar of all people. Tired blue resignation, there was nothing he could do about it. A purple shiver from the world around him. The bone deep gray exhaustion oozing from the wound, and the tightly knotted anger that seemed so fragile and delicate.

The delicate and fearful red wound made Ranvir even more afraid. The pale violet let out finger slithering vines from its center that tried to take root within him.

“Should… It’s going to get better, alright.” Dovar’s voice firmed up. “Take the time you need.”

A heavy hand landed on Ranvir’s shoulder. It was comforting. Felt like his dad’s. He wanted to get angry that Dovar would imitate him like that, but he couldn’t. He was just so tired and… afraid. He’d been so afraid for so long. Another shiver ran through him.

Afraid that the nobles would come for him. Afraid that his family wouldn’t recover. Afraid of what he’d seen. Afraid for his mom. Afraid of the empty look in her eyes. Afraid of the times when it came back.

Afraid that he would become a tethered. Afraid that he wouldn’t become a tethered. Afraid that he wouldn’t be a good tethered. Afraid that space manipulators were so rare. Afraid that his friends would leave him behind.

“I don’t want to be scared anymore.” Ranvir sobbed. The hand on his shoulder squeezed. Seeming to chase some of the purple surrounding him away…

Pale violet eased off the roots, and they started retreating. The angry red wound cracked to show a core of purple fear dark to the point of black as it retreated under the ground and with it, the rain.

“I’m sorry.” Ranvir couldn’t look at him, or even say his name, but he needed to say it. As much for Dovar as for himself. “I’m sorry.”

Dovar squeezed Ranvir’s shoulder one more time, before pulling his hand back and letting the purple draw back over skin…

“I’m…” Dovar hesitated and Ranvir sensed an awkward silence building between them. “Going to go back to the dorms. Do you want me to send Grev or Sansir? Or um… the last one?”

Ranvir shook his head slowly, the Purple following him. “No… It’s… It’s okay.” He didn’t look at his hands from his kneeling position, his eyes were closed as the Purple moved around him. He was still holding his power. Maybe that was why he was feeling his emotions outside his body…

“I’m going to go, then.” Dovar cleared his throat, then jogged off.

“Yeah…”

But it didn’t feel like any emotion Ranvir knew. It didn’t feel like much of anything, just Purple. It had tiny ridges so small he felt at once that he shouldn’t be able to sense them and that it was all that he should sense.

Purple ridges in Purple… stuff.

When Ranvir focused as intently and carefully as he could, it felt almost like running a finger over threads woven by the Triplet Goddess herself. Ranvir knew then that if he was to let in infinitesimally small piece of Purple into himself, it would feel like everything and nothing. It would expand to fill the space given, revealing the tiny spaces between the woven threads. And it would look like a net.