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 Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:38 pm
Takes place March 1st Julian usually arrived very early on the weekends, like he needed to squeeze out every second of daylight on Dering. It was easier to do when it was just himself, but with company--
Well, it just seemed safer to wait until the sun was up in the sky. Julian had nothing poor to say about Dering, but it would have been negligent if he hadn't mentioned that the perpetual fog obscured roots and pits. It was always worse in the morning than by midday, and Julian wanted to make sure that Riker's first trip was worthwhile.
He wanted him to see the best of Dering, not--
Well, not the stuff he was trying to help it work out.
In that same vein, he'd spoken very highly of Cyril. Julian had a way of carefully smoothing over Cyril's roughness without even thinking of it, but that was a trait expanded to everyone and everything in his life. And--to be fair to Cyril, Julian had intruded unexpectedly. And he wasn't a very good Knight, and he had a lot of questions and didn't understand, and he had a lot of room for improvement, and--
A twig snapped as they arrived on Dering. Julian's attention snapped to the dense, tree-lined horizon, expecting someone to appear from between them. Cyril had no form, and no animals had returned to Dering. It probably wasn't a threat--probably was just the weight of water on old branches who no longer wanted to fight to stay upright.
Leaves rustled. Something hit the forest floor.
Nothing else moved.
"Sorry," Julian said quickly, untangling his arm from Reims's and cradling his lute with both arms. He brought a lunchbox, carried on the side opposite of Reims, and adjusted that too. "It does that sometimes. Cyril says the forest is alive. Um, old magic."
Julian was a little nervous. He liked Cyril, and he liked Reims, and he wanted Cyril to like Reims, and vice versa. His nerves were firing, too excited, already making problems where there definitely weren't any.
"I sent him a letter," Julian explained--his third time this week. "So he knows we're coming. Um, we usually meet just ahead. There's a tree I like. Please watch your step. It's safe here, but just in case, I mean."
The morning sun was high over Dering, and the scent of flowers wafted in the air. They landed in a clearing with soft, pale grass that had shot up to a little over ankle-high. Dering noticed it immediately but didn't comment on it. Before he'd (poorly) managed the sickle to cut it, and then (also poorly) trimmed it with the manual push mower, the grass used to be knee-high, and had even grown almost as tall as his waist in some areas.
Now, it was (almost) neatly trimmed.
Enough that they could walk without getting stuck on anything. There were small patches of wildflowers, the most prominent of which looked somewhat like foxglove, somewhat like bluebells, and grew on tall stems like daffodils. Imposing, ancient trees, with wide trunks and sprawling branches, circled them. There was no clear path into the forest.
But at least the fog was light and thin--cool in the air, but felt more than seen.
The trees in the clearing were pale, with soft and smooth wood, and roots that made the ground buckle. Julian's favorite was up ahead--a tree that curled in on itself and whose roots rose and fell like waves, rising high above the ground before sinking beneath the dirt. There were many nooks and crannies, and the tree was rife with comfortable seating.
A larger tree was not ignored, but Julian passed it with reverence, more like he did not think he was allowed to look at it as much as he didn't want to. He did not say that this was the tree concealing the stairway down to Dering's Code; he had described it to Riker before. Julian spoke fondly of his wonder, but his words did it no justice; it was a powerful, but lonely forest. Something heavy, not just fog, hung in the air, and for all of its majesty there was still something dark--just out of sight, just out of reach.
But Julian smiled anyway, despite how he hummed with nervous energy, and guided Reims towards the rendezvous point.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:39 pm
Reims arrived hand in hand with Julian, dark fabric spilling out on the soft grass and settling fog, his shoes touching down with far less noise than the snapped twig that had startled Julian. The top had felt too sharp against the warmness of the clearing, the black cape falling heavily down his back, absorbing any light instead of reflecting it. Against Dering's pretty flowers and pale trees, he felt like an ink spill in watercolor. At least the fog seemed to soften the edges of everything, which made him feel less like an intrusion.
His fingers flexed instinctively when the branch cracked, but he didn't summon his weapon to his hand. He just watched the treeline, eyes narrowing slightly. He scanned the canopy above them, then the roots, and the curling of fog that seemed to whisper around them.
Then Julian apologized.
Reims let out a quiet breath and relaxed his hand.
"It's fine," he softly reassured. "If your Wonder wanted me gone, I assume it would've done something more dramatic than dropping branches."
He adjusted the strap of the guitar across his back. He had almost left it behind, but it felt wrong to come here without it. The instrument had once belonged to Dering, after all.
He let Julian untangle their arms without protest, though he remained close enough that he could still easily reach him if necessary.
"I appreciate the warning," he added. "You don't have to apologize for your Wonder doing what Wonders do." He glanced across the clearing as they moved.
"You've been busy," he quietly observed. He could tell that Julian had spent a good deal of time trying to clean the forest, or at least the area they were in now. The grass didn't look tall enough to have been left untended for centuries. Julian did a good job, but that wasn't surprising.
When they passed the larger tree, the one Julian didn't look at, Reims noticed but did not stare. He inclined his head slightly toward it instead, a gesture meant respectfully more than curiosity. He could recall some of the things Julian had shared with him, but it was always different when seeing things in person.
The forest pressed in around them. Beautiful, yes… but heavy. Ancient. There was something in it that felt less like malice and more like… waiting. Reims straightened a little, posture shifting from casual to vigilant without his shoulders getting too tense.
When Julian smiled, Reims's attention left the tree line entirely and settled on him. He could tell Julian was nervous. He didn't want him to be.
"If Cyril dislikes me, I'll survive," he insisted. Then pressed his lips together to keep himself from huffing. "And if I dislike him… I'll still be polite. This is important to you, so it's important to me."
He adjusted the new cuff in his ear absently, black studs catching the shine of the morning light before fog masked it again.
"For the record," he added, glancing at the flowers blooming around Julian's boots, then down at his own dark clothing. "I'm aware I look like I wandered into the wrong storybook."
Wasn't that the same thing he'd noticed when he and Dering first spent time together? It seemed so long ago.
He let out a breath of dry amusement, then stepped forward alongside Julian toward the curling tree, careful on uneven ground and ready to catch Julian if he lost his balance.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:41 pm
Julian wasn’t quite confident here, but he’d spent enough time that his feet knew the way. He’d visited nearly every week for the last three months, and while most of Dering still felt unknown or inaccessible to him–
Pride didn’t come naturally, or easily, to him, so the praise was brushed off with a small smile. He had been busy. There weren’t buildings to clean up, and maintaining a forest was a strange learning experience. He’d cleaned debris and tended to the plants as best as possible, but mostly he felt like he was moving leaves.
He had slowly acquired tools supplies, with the most recent additions being the grass-tending tools. But they were better than the shears he’d tried to start with. Reims was much better with lawncare than he was, but Dering was much different than their backyard, and somewhat more forgiving. At least only Cyril was here to judge him for it, and he hadn’t.
He’d even complimented how much more open the clearing was, and said it was nice to see the flowers.
Julian thought he was maybe just being nice about it all, but he didn’t let himself think about that too much.
“You don’t look like you wandered into the wrong storybook,” he reassured. “And don’t feel like Dering is trying to make you feel unwelcome. It’s just like this,” he promised. If it was giving Reims attitude, then it was giving Julian attitude, and–
Well, he didn’t let himself think about that too much, either.
“Anyway, heroes come from faraway lands all the time. So you fit right in, really.” He smiled, but kept his eyes on the ground in front of him.
“Cyril will like you. I told him it was your birthday yesterday. And I told him you’re really good on the guitar. He says he hopes you play it better than I play the lute. But since you brought it, um. Well, like I said, he might ask you to play. But he’s nice about it, he has lots of tips. And you’re really good.”
Though Julian never seemed to have anything bad to say about anyone or anything, he still spoke with absolute sincerity on this.
“He’s been teaching me a few songs. I think he’s a really good teacher. And he’s got all those other instruments. He says he’ll teach me how to play those, if I get them fixed up. But I don’t know if I can learn all of them.” Absent-mindedly, he rubbed at his wrist. “You might have to help me. There’s a lot of them. Some I’ve never even seen before.”
“And some you’ll never see again,” Cyril said, arms crossed as he leaned against the tree as if he were solid enough to feel it.
Cyril and Julian were visibly similar in many ways, though Cyril looked older, and in death he had been preserved both handsome and well-groomed. He had a pretty face, without being too delicate, and carried himself in a way Julian never had–confident, and assured. But tired too, like all these years had weighed on him. His outfit was elegant and seemed a bit out of place for someone expected to tend a forest. He’d have fit in more in the halls of some great castle.
“My own inventions, one of a kind. Though,” he shrugged, “I suppose I’ve had a few years to get out of date. Maybe they’re common on Earth.”
“Oh! Hi, Cyril.” Julian stood up straight. “Good morning. I was just telling Reims about how much you like music. Reims, this is Cyril. Cyril, Reims.” His face was pink, because–well, obviously, but Cyril overlooked his obvious nervousness.
“It’s nice to meet you. You’ll forgive me if I don’t shake hands,” Cyril said, unmoving from where he leaned against the tree.
The fog curled around the tree, but not him. In this light, he looked both real and not. Sunlight didn’t hit him quite right, but his face seemed to have its own natural glow. It was uncanny, only if you looked too deeply. Of course, if you looked too deeply you could see through him, too. Some parts more than others.
His shoulder might have pressed into the tree, but even that looked wrong–like an echo of a memory more than an action itself. Plus, he seemed to thin out and disappear completely just below the knees, gone before he reached the grass.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:41 pm
Reims didn't startle when Cyril appeared. He went still for a moment — nothing tense, just taking a moment to observe him. The way the fog moved around him, the way the sunlight seemed like it wasn't sure how to react with him. The way he looked solid and yet not at the same time.
He glanced over at Julian for a moment, and then back.
"Well," he said after a moment, voice casual. "You might be the strangest thing I've seen since becoming a Knight." He paused for a moment and grimaced a little at himself. "No offense." He hadn't said it to be cruel, he was just honestly curious about him.
He studied Cyril a little more openly now. His posture, his expression, the unmistakable resemblance he had to Julian. It was both subtle and obvious.
"You've really been here this whole time?" he asked before he could stop himself, clearly trying to imagine it. And when Cyril excused the lack of a handshake, Reims glanced down — or rather, through — and gave a small nod.
"Probably for the best," he mumbled lightly. "It would probably make things awkward for both of us."
His hand absently rested against the strap of the guitar slung across his back, interest clear in his expression. "You made your own instruments?" he blinked curiously. "That's… kind of awesome. I'd like to see what you made sometime, even if they're outdated—... uh… by Earth standards."
He paused to clear his throat, ears burning a little because it was probably weird to say. "I uh… am trying to learn how to play the organ back on Reims. But, you know… Cathedral acoustics. A little different than being outdoors," he said, then shrugged awkwardly.
"It's nice to meet you, Cyril. Thanks for letting Jules find you."
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:41 pm
Cyril’s brow arched at the insinuation that he was the strangest thing. “Stranger than giant space monsters? I don’t know if I should be offended. I should teach you some more flattering adjectives. Intriguing, captivating, fascinating? Try those.”
Julian flushed, like he had anything to be embarrassed about, but Cyril had no intention of letting either teenager squirm. Much.
He just didn’t get to show off his vocabulary often. And, half the time he used a fancy word, Julian looked at him like he was afraid he’d be scolded for needing clarification.
“You don’t need to thank me for ‘letting’ Jules find me,” he said, and it was obvious by Julian’s expression that this was the first time he’d ever used that nickname. “It was either that or let him get himself hurt.”
“Um, yes, I told Reims how, um–how I went into a part of the forest I wasn’t supposed to go,” Julian offered quickly, looking between the two and fidgeting with his sleeves. “How you were protecting me.”
Cyril hummed, and slowly pushed himself off the tree. “Don’t give me too much credit. I was getting bored here, anyway. You caught me on a good day.”
“Oh, good,” Julian said, smile back in place. He radiated a distinct sort of nervous energy despite standing nearly perfectly still.
Cyril looked at him briefly before he nodded to the guitar. “It looks good. Hold it up, let me see what you’ve done with it.” He stood before the two, tilting his head as if to examine it. He kept one arm crossed over his chest and propping up his elbow while his other hand cupped his chin. “An organ sounds nice. I used to be very good.” There was something fond, but undeniably bitter echoing in his voice. Especially when he forced a shrug and said, “A long time ago.”
There were no large instruments out here, and even if there were, they would have been wasted on him.
“But I suppose strings were always more of my calling.” At least he had his lyre, which dangled from a strap at his waist. “Julian has seen my instruments. If he chooses, you have my permission to view them. I may even let you take another, if you fix it up as well as this. But looking good is only part of it.”
The aesthetics pleased him, but instruments weren’t for just seeing. He wanted to know how well it sounded, too.
“Can you play anything?”
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:42 pm
Reims huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh when Cyril pushed back.
"Giant space monsters are kind of… expected, you know?" he hummed, tilting his head in consideration. "Knights get weapons and magic to deal with monsters."
He paused and gestured lightly toward Cyril. "Ghosts leaning against trees and critiquing my vocabulary? That's a new one," he said, the faintest grin tugging at his lips.
"Okay, maybe 'intriguing' is a better fit."
He let Cyril look over the guitar when asked, shifting it off his shoulder and holding it up so the mother-of-pearl caught the light that filtered through the fog.
"Technically Julian cleaned it up," he said, glancing briefly toward his friend before returning his attention to Cyril. "I mostly make sure it doesn't collect dust."
At the question of whether he could play, Reims pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "I can play enough that people usually don't ask me to stop," he said a bit dryly. "But if the guy who built the thing is standing right here judging me, that might change the outcome."
His hand slid into position on the neck, his other resting comfortably over the strings, almost unconsciously.
"Cathedrals are easier," he added. "More forgiving with the echo." He glanced at Cyril's lyre for a moment, genuinely interested. "But if strings are your thing… I guess I'll take the risk. Any requests?" he asked, glancing down at Julian again.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:42 pm
Julian blinked, like it took him a few seconds to catch up, and then he shook his head quickly and looked at Cyril like he’d have an answer.
To this, Cyril quirked a brow. “Oh, I don’t think you want any of my requests. You’ll hear nothing you know how to play from me.”
Julian’s brows furrowed and he searched his mind quickly for an answer, but Cyril asked, “You must have played something on it when you fixed it, no? To make sure it sounded right?”
“Oh–well, no. I–I didn’t really do much,” Julian insisted, quick to make sure everyone but himself got credit for it. “Atticus, and his father, Mr. DeLunne, and Mr. Reid did most of it. I just asked for help. Mr Reid, he’s the one who made sure it sounded good. He did all the fine tuning.”
Cyril nodded, slow and patient, despite a subtle exasperation. “Well, what did he play?”
“Um, I mean, he writes his own music, so I think he just did something like that.” Julian wrung his hands together and looked at Reims for an answer.
“Hm,” Cyril said, and pulled the lyre from his hip. He gave it a few experimental strums, like it didn’t sound the exact same now as it did a thousand years ago. “Well, no matter. I’ll give you something to play. Reims, let me test your ears, too. Listen to this, and play it back to me.”
His fingers stretched across the string and he plucked an easy, but jovial tune. He was obviously simplifying the song; his fingers twitched like they wanted to go somewhere else just before redirecting themselves to easier chords. He played for only five seconds, giving Reims something simple to start with.
Cyril hid it well, but he was curious–and at least a little eager.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:42 pm
Reims didn't respond immediately after Cyril played. Instead, he went very still. His fingers hovered lightly over the strings while he listened, head tilting slightly as if doing so would help him to hear better. When the last note faded into the fog, he closed his eyes for a moment like he was tracing the pattern through his memory.
A lyre wasn't a guitar. But music was still music. And Cyril obviously knew that, since he'd been the one who apparently created both instruments.
After a second, his fingers shifted along the neck until they found what they were looking for. He tested the first note quietly, then the second. He made a brief adjustment, then strummed the chord progression back. It was slower at first, like he was feeling out the notes, before the rhythm settled into something closer to what Cyril had played. The melody came through a little fuller on the guitar, more rounded than the lyre's brighter pluck, but still recognizable.
When he finished the short melody, he opened one eye toward Cyril.
"Close enough?" he asked, his tone careful but lightly teasing. His hand rested against the strings to still them.
"If this turns into a full performance evaluation, just know I've never bothered singing before. That'll probably turn out horrible."
He shifted his grip slightly on the guitar neck, ready if Cyril decided to play more, but glanced toward Julian to check on him.
"Did Cyril teach you this one, too?"
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:43 pm
“Close enough,” Cyril confirmed, but his head was still slightly tilted. He’d cupped his chin while he listened, interested in how Riker interpreted what he heard.
Julian smiled–or, maybe it was more accurate to say that he hadn’t stopped smiling, but his brows looked slightly more relaxed. “I haven’t learned that one. But Cyril knows so many.”
“That I do.” Cyril beamed with the acknowledgement despite maintaining a nearly unflappable stoicism. “What do you mean, ‘I’ve never bothered singing before’? Why not?” he asked, but caught Riker’s eyes and strummed the same tune as before. This time it was as slow and patient as the first, but he’d obviously upped the difficulty and thrown in a few flourishes.
His posture had relaxed, like this was less of an evaluation and more of a game.
And yet, he waited. Expectantly.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:44 pm
Although Reims didn't answer the question right away, it was clear that he'd heard it and was letting it settle. In the meantime, he let his fingers brush over the strings again while Cyril replayed the tune. Reims listened the same way he had before, looking down at the guitar as if the shimmering inlay would help him concentrate.
When the flourishes came, his brows furrowed slightly and he clicked his tongue softly against the roof of his mouth. Not in frustration, but because he knew the test level was increasing.
He closed his eyes again, replaying the notes in his head, then his hand shifted along the fretboard, testing the first piece of the melody again before easing into the rest. The first part he was able to play without any problem. But where the embellishments were added, he hesitated only briefly before trying to follow them. His fingers adjusted, correcting halfway through one of the chords before finding the pattern again. Not perfect, but he hoped close enough again.
When the final chord faded, he let his hand rest lightly across the strings. Only then did he answer.
"...I grew up somewhere that didn't really encourage… expression," he said, voice quieter now, almost casual, like it was just something he'd stopped trying to argue about years ago. "My mother and my brother were pretty clear about it. Apparently I couldn't carry a tune anyway. Or something like that."
He glanced briefly toward Julian, just to make sure he was still there. He didn't try to hide things from Julian, but they were both relatively private about their history, Julian so much more so.
"So I figured I'd spare everyone the suffering."
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:44 pm
Julian stood off to the side, close enough to be supportive but out of the way enough that he was in no way obtrusive. He’d perfected the art of existing in the peripherals, just out of sight. Sometimes out of mind.
When Reims glanced in his direction, he offered a reassuring smile. It was apologetic, too. It wasn’t his fault, but Reims wasn’t ever going to get anything from his mother or brother, so it was the best he could do.
Cyril seemed more interested in how Reims played the music back to him than he was in the accuracy of it. In the end, he nodded approvingly.
“Creative. An interesting approach. You know, your voice is just an instrument, too. Anyone can learn how to sing. You shouldn’t be so quick to put yourself down. I hope you’re not setting a bad example for Julian.”
“No,” Julian was hanging off of every word, so he was quick to sneak in an answer when required of him. “Reims is wonderful. He’s a good example.”
“I’m sure,” Cyril mused dryly. He didn’t sound sure. Julian had never said a disparaging word about Reims, but Cyril was clever enough to read between the lines. Or maybe he was just good at assuming. He shrugged. “I’ll give you lessons if you need them. Or you can practice on your Wonder. Since cathedral acoustics are so forgiving.”
Julian was somewhere between a strained smile and a pleading expression, as if he wasn’t sure if there was something he should be engaging in or if he should try to change the subject. He didn’t want either of them to be uncomfortable or unhappy.
Cyril spared him the decision and said, “Sorry to hear about your upbringing, though. That sounds miserable. My father wanted me to be a very different kind of Knight.” He strummed his lyre indulgently. “Do you have encouragement for expression where you are now?”
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:44 pm
Reims let out a short breath that might have been a laugh at the idea of a ghost giving him singing lessons. Definitely not on his bingo card.
"I'll keep that offer in mind," he huffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He glanced over at Julian again, softer. He didn't want him worrying more than he already did. For whatever reason.
On the topic of Cyril's father, Reims tilted his head slightly in curiosity. "What kind of Knight did he want you to be?"
He paused for a moment, then shrugged so he could answer the question about his own experience. "Yeah. I do, now. My parents—... They don't exactly stop me from being myself."
The evidence was there, although it wasn't something readily announced. The red in his bangs. The black studs. The cuff in his ear. They were small choices, sure, but choices all the same.
"I think they know I'm still kind of… coming out of survival mode," he admitted, although his voice was quieter now. "So they don't push. They give me space… which is probably the only reason things work so well."
He glanced over at Julian again, this time the fondness was easier to read.
"Jules helps, too," he added. "He's a good influence. Even if he's going to immediately deny it."
His hand drifted back to the strings, his thumb brushing absently against them. "Anyway, I'm not against learning. Singing, instruments, whatever. Just know I'll probably complain at some point."
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:44 pm
Julian did not immediately deny it, but it was clearly by willpower alone. His lips pressed tighter, still in the shape of a smile, and his brows were fighting not to furrow any more than they already had. Too often, he had a worried expression on his face, even when the situation wasn’t worrisome at all.
Cyril noticed, of course. He wasn’t surprised that Julian made himself sparse in the company of others, but it was curious all the same. Bringing attention to it would undoubtedly not help, so he let Julian make himself a background prop in the conversation.
“Then I will complain as well.” Cyril shrugged and plucked a few more strings. “But Julian speaks high praise of you. I think his appraisals tend to be a bit charitable. But you haven’t let me down, so maybe there’s merit in them.”
Julian did not speak, nor did his expression change, but there was something distinctly apologetic about him.
“Why did you want to come here today?” Cyril asked.
It wasn’t a burning question, but he didn’t care much for beating around the bush. Nor did he seem to care to divulge ancient history with his father.
“Not to learn music,” he deduced, and Julian could have brought the guitar without company if the plan was just to show him the state of it. “I suppose Julian didn’t tell you how cantankerous and abrasive I can be or you might not be in such good spirits to meet me. So, what did you want to come of today?”
It felt like a loaded question. Julian shifted on his feet. Not that he’d have spoken up for himself, but for Reims–
“Cyril,” he said gently, not quite pleading, but ready to if needed.
“It’s not a quiz,” Cyril reassured, looking at Julian again. “Just a question. I know he’s important to you, I’m not trying to scare him off. I’m just curious.”
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:45 pm
Reims felt his ears flush pink at that, though whether it was from Cyril's assessment of not letting him down or the reminder that Julian apparently talked highly about him was difficult to determine. Maybe both. Probably both.
He glanced toward Julian again, his expression softening just for a moment — something softer than a smile but warmer than anything he could describe with words. Julian was charitable, maybe. Too charitable, probably. But Reims also knew he wasn't exactly objective where Julian was concerned either.
He looked back at Cyril and gave a small, dry scoff.
"You don't seem that cantankerous," he said. "A little opinionated, maybe. But I've met worse." His fingers rested against the guitar strings, his shoulders straightening beneath the dark cape.
"I came because you matter to him," Reims said simply. There was nothing accusatory about it. "Julian talks about you. A lot." He paused, glancing at Julian for just a second, trying to make sure he wasn't embarrassing him, because that wasn't the intention. "He doesn't really do that unless something — or someone — means a lot to him."
He took a breath, letting it out slowly. "So yeah, I wanted to meet you. And…" he paused, but there wasn't much point in hesitating in front of someone who seemed as observant as Cyril. "I wanted to make sure you were worth his time."
His tone stayed respectful and calm, but there was something serious underneath it. Not hostility, just openly protective.
"He spends every weekend here. He trusts you. He listens to you." Reims's gaze stayed on Cyril now. "That makes you important to me too, whether I know you yet or not. I'm not here to interrogate you. And I'm not here because I thought he couldn't make his own choices," he continued, his eyes narrowing slightly, thoughtfully. "I just know Jules. He tends to let people be the gentlest version of themselves in his mind and when he speaks of them. So I wanted to see you for myself."
Then, after another moment, but not letting it linger too long to become too heavy. "And if you were actually unbearable, I was prepared to be very polite about it."
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 6:45 pm
At this, Cyril laughed. It wasn’t loud, not dramatic. It was something like a humorous scoff. But he found some measure of humor in Reims’ words.
Julian had never heard Cyril laugh before, not like that, so his gaze snapped up from where he’d been trying to bore into the ground.
Not thinking much of it, Cyril shrugged. The faintest shadow of a smile lingered on his face. “Well, I promised Julian I’d be on my best behavior. If you were actually unbearable, I was prepared to be somewhat polite about it."
Cyril was being playful. It wasn’t a side of him that Julian had gotten to see before. Unsurprisingly, it took him a few seconds of intense concentration to realize that there wasn’t any real tension in the air. He imagined it easily–braced for it–but the stress that built in his shoulders faded quickly.
He’d have wrinkles young but that was no surprise to anyone who knew him.
Reims knew him well. Cyril knew him well enough.
Even as they spoke about him, Julian said nothing, too afraid to break whatever–peace?–they might have been sharing.
“I find your answer satisfactory. I might not have to pretend to tolerate you.I have all the time in the world, but no patience for evasion. I appreciate your bluntness. ” He and Julian were not entirely compatible, but each was doing their best to meet in the middle.
“You don’t have anyone lurking on your Wonder, do you?” Probably not if Reims thought ghosts were strange. “It sounds like modern Knights have things quite a bit different than we did in my day. There weren't any ghosts in Dering before I came along.”
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