Sylar #3
“So, of course, when she offered us a home, I clambered at the chance. Even though she explained that it wasn’t as extravagant as what we were used to.
I didn’t mind. Suddenly, the goddess and stars had gifted me with a new family, a new home, something that wouldn’t leave me and Isolde completely unprotected. ”
Raylen reaches up, his knuckles pressing hard against the center of his chest as if he can physically rub away the ache behind his ribs. The vulnerability in the gesture is striking, shattering the confident aura of the legendary archer I thought I knew.
“You don’t have to finish telling me if it’s too painful,” I say softly. The urge to bridge the small gap between us and squeeze his hand is a sudden, sharp pressure in my chest, but I force my fingers to remain coiled tightly in my lap.
“No, I want to tell you.” Raylen shifts on the wooden bench, his thigh brushing against mine as he scoots closer.
Beyond the thick canopy of the berry bushes shielding our alcove, the muffled trill of market flutes and the distant laughter of the crowd drift over us, a reminder of the busy world we’ve temporarily escaped.
He looks up, a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips.
“Before we arrived, I had only ever heard how eccentric and isolated Moonscliffe could be. I knew the village sat on the highest peak of the tallest mountain in Dun Steorra. It’s literally closer to the stars than anywhere else.
To a grieving child, it felt like a fairytale.
It felt magical that this would be my new home. ”
He pauses, reaching down to snap a small twig off the bench, snapping it in half between his fingers. The sharp crack echoes in the quiet space.
“When my aunt told the other parents about what happened to my family, everyone knew I was of noble blood,” he continues, his voice dropping a register.
“She was close with everyone in town, and she honestly wasn’t sure how the community would react.
She didn’t know how the village children would treat an outsider from a fallen house.
So, the parents did what any tight-knit community does.
They instructed their kids to welcome me with open arms.”
Raylen lets out a dry, humorless chuckle, tossing the broken pieces of wood into the dirt.
“And they did. But it put a massive, terrifying spotlight right on my head. Suddenly, every child in the village knew exactly who I was. They all wanted to be my friend, to see the noble boy. Everything around me was instantly loud, chaotic, and completely overwhelming. I never had a single second to just breathe or get used to the loss.”
He turns his head, his lilac eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath hitch.
“So, I went to the head tutors and begged them to pair me with you.”
I gasp, the sound catching sharply in my throat. “You… you asked to be paired with me?”
All this time, for an entire decade, I thought some cruel twist of luck had forced him into my quiet orbit. I thought I was his punishment.
“I did,” Raylen whispers, a soft breeze rustling the leaves above us, streaking sunlight across the sharp features of his face.
“I saw you sitting out on the academy lawn one afternoon, completely tucked away from the rest of the noisy crowd. You looked so peaceful, Sy. You were reading a massive, heavy text on stellar geometry, with a sprawling star map laid out on the grass in front of you. You didn’t look at me like I was a tragic curiosity.
You didn’t look up at all. Right then, I knew I needed to be near whatever magic kept you so calm. ”
I am struck completely speechless. But Raylen keeps going, the words flowing more easily now.
“Being your partner gave me the strength to feel comfortable in my own skin again. Your quiet was contagious. Eventually, because I felt safe at your side, I started opening up to the other young elves. I became friends with them. I was happy, I was popular, and for the first time since the accident, I didn’t feel alone anymore.
I found my passion for archery, and with it, a desperate craving for adventure. ”
He stands up, pacing the small width of the alcove before leaning his shoulder against the trunk of a nearby birch tree. He looks out through a gap in the leaves toward the bustling market square.
“I remembered the stories our classmates used to tell. I heard about Emberleigh, Gearwick, and all the grand places people came from. I wanted that. I wanted to explore the world and become the absolute best at my craft. So when Lord Bonnipea offered to take me on as his personal apprentice, I jumped at the chance. I had my own coin, I knew Isolde would be safe with my aunt, and everyone supported my dream. So, I left.”
Raylen drops his gaze to his boots, his shoulders tensing.
“Only, the moment the carriage crossed the valley line, I was entirely alone. Sure, I had my tutor, but he was a strict, cold master. We never became friends. Suddenly, I missed my people. I missed my family. I missed…” He looks back at me, his voice cracking slightly. “I missed you.”
“Me?” I whisper, the word slipping out before I can stop it. What on Goddess’s earth could a celebrated hero miss about a grumpy, rigid elf?
“Everything was terrifying and lonely all over again,” Raylen says.
The rich scent of the crushed pine needles beneath his boots wafts up between us.
“It was as if I was dragged right back to the night my parents were killed, finally forced to feel all those awful emotions I’d stuffed down deep.
I buried myself in my archery studies just to survive it.
But the first time I was supposed to actually compete… ”
He sinks back onto the bench, close enough that I can feel the radiating heat of his arm.
“I froze. There were crowds of gawking elves, thousands of people I didn’t know and didn’t trust. A part of my brain convinced me they were going to tear me away from what little home I had left. I knew it wasn’t logical, but I couldn’t fight it. That was the night the panic attacks started.”
He looks at me, a sudden, bright spark of nostalgia softening his features.
“Do you remember that midwinter term, right before the frost solstice?” Raylen asks, a genuine smile finally breaking through his sorrow.
“We were supposed to present our co-authored thesis on the Constellation of the Silver Stag to the entire academy board. I was so nervous I was practically vibrating out of my boots, completely convinced I was going to botch your perfect research.”
I blink, the memory rushing back vividly. “I remember. You dropped your star map three times before we even walked onto the dais.”
“Exactly,” Raylen chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“But right before the headmaster called my name, you didn’t yell at me for being clumsy.
You just reached over, grabbed my wrist, and forced me to sit down on the steps.
You handed me half of a squashed, honey cake you baked, and you told me that if I didn’t eat it and shut up, you’d purposely misalign the telescope so I’d look like an idiot in front of the elders. ”
A breathless laugh escapes my lips. “I did say that.”
“You did,” Raylen says softly, his gaze dropping to my mouth before rising back to my eyes.
“You were so fierce, so unbothered by the pressure, and that silly, sticky slice of cake grounded me completely. We went up there and blew them away. To you, it was just a grumpy threat to keep your project perfect. But to me… it was the exact moment I realized Moonscliffe wasn’t just a place I was hiding in anymore. It was home… because you were in it.”
Sitting there in the shaded quiet of the alcove, listening to the soft rustle of the leaves, my heart aches with a profound, terrifying revelation.
I had spent ten years remembering an arrogant, golden boy who outgrew our quiet village.
But the boy sitting next to me had just been a lonely, broken child clinging to my silence like a lifeline.
Goddess help me, I have had him entirely wrong.
We sit in comfortable silence as we finish our cloud cakes, chewing slowly and savoring each bite. Raylen’s words replay in my head over and over again, echoing through my thoughts until I realize just how deeply I have misunderstood him.
He paints my childhood in an entirely different light.
I must admit, I rather prefer the picture he has drawn over the fractured way I remembered things.
Now that I think about it, I actually share several fond memories with Raylen.
He never bullied me. Not once, unlike some of the other children.
But I think I must have lumped him into the same category as everyone else, judging him for his vast popularity and wealth rather than the actual content of his character.
As my mind shuffles through some of my favorite moments from our teenage years, a quiet light kindles behind my ribs, thawing the cold guard around my heart.
Stars, how wrong have I been? Raylen is not the careless prankster I thought I remembered.
Not at all. He has been nothing but kind to me.
I briefly consider wandering the market later to look for a memory charm.
Maybe I can find some minor enchantment to see just how badly my mind has warped the past. Is there even a spell out there capable of that?
After finishing the last of his cake, Raylen clears his throat and stands, brushing the stray crumbs off his trousers.
I tug my pocket watch from my vest to check the time, catching my breath when I realize how many hours have slipped away in his company. “By the stars, I need to get to the Three Cats Inn. Talia is meeting me there soon. Our mother booked us a room.”
Raylen’s face scrunches in instant confusion. “The Three Cats?”