Oblivion
He woke earlier than Willem. Or perhaps Willem had woken before the sun, fed the animals, and come back to bed.
The alchemist of currents slept wild like Lyra, starfished across the bed, legs and arms every which way. Elias gently pushed Willem’s elbow off his cheek and slid out of bed.
He went into the kitchen to make breakfast. He boiled eggs and salted fish. He was surprised to find Willem kept berries in a pot in the cold ground. He toasted some bread from last night and spread them over it.
When he returned to Willem’s bedroom, the alchemist was sitting up and looking dazed. His hair was a knotted mess, sticking up on one side.
He brightened, reaching out for his dish.
They sat beside each other eating companionably, then Willem made Elias help him with chores.
They didn’t talk much about the previous night and Elias was a bit nervous to ask.
He rubbed the floors with oil on one side of the house while Willem washed dishes on the other.
Elias picked more eggs from the coop and took them inside while Willem turned sheep’s milk into butter and then boiled it down to a flavorful oil with herbs.
He stopped Elias folding sheets to feed him some.
The sun was past noon when Willem put a hand to Elias’s sweaty shoulder and made him bathe again, then dragged him back to bed. He tucked Elias’s confused head under his chin and stilled, like he was waiting for something.
Elias bravely stuck a finger out and wrapped one of Willem’s soft whirls around it.
“You live both simply and grand,” Elias said.
“Shh.” William put a hand to Elias’s skull.
The vibrations began to ring in his head, small at first, then bursting forth with incredible violence. Elias screamed and knew Victor was screaming also, in discord.
The agony was incredible, like the edges of the cord were smashing against the sides of his skull. Victor was angry, but more than that he was hurt. The beat of his loss was arrhythmic, and one could not adjust to it.
Distantly, Elias knew his hands were fisting Willem’s shirt, but as always, Willem bent before this, unaffected.
Victor’s anger and pain went on for many minutes before sinking to a despair Elias could recognize.
Deep and wide as the black of night, suffocating as the bottom of the sea. So he knew about his family, then.
“Control it or it will destroy you,” Willem said.
“Could you not quiet it as you did yesterday?” Elias hissed, snatching his hands from Willem’s shirt to cover his own ears. It did not protect him from the sound inside his head.
Willem laughed. “You are strong enough.”
Elias opened his eyes and forced himself to breathe. His heart was racing fast and black spots darted before his eyes.
“I can’t,” he panted.
“Think about vibrations and sound waves, as your soul has chosen that language,” Willem said. “You are bright. But think quickly.”
Elias could not think for all this noise. Surely Victor had somehow survived Elias doing this very thing to him. It had been months since—And ah! Perhaps that could work, then.
Elias dug inside himself and brought forth the beat of loss that was his own.
Instead of bracing against the rhythm of Victor’s grief, he remembered the sting of his own and matched it.
Sang back at him in the exact tune. Only when he was moving at the speed of the cord, tears streaming down his face, was he going fast enough to grab it.
It was hot in his palm. He felt his hand blister, like when he beat Victor’s door down so many months ago, but Elias did not let go until the thread was steady and quiet.
When he opened his eyes, Willem was looking back at him from inches away. Dark and curious.
Elias’s hand still hurt. When he looked down at it, his palm was red and bubbling.
“Oh,” he said. He had not known that would happen.
Willem smiled with all his teeth and Elias saw that he was missing some. It made him look silly and Elias was helpless with tenderness.
Willem kissed him on the forehead.
“You are one of our house, then. If you survive this.”