“Boy, back on the train,” Asimi said, pressing her face against the window. The world rushed past, blurred hues of green and blue. She traced the passing houses with her finger, watching them disappear into dots. “Visiting your mom again?”

  Zeid nodded. He was slumped against his seat, wearing another one of those bishop-sleeved shirts that swallowed his hands up completely. Honestly, it looked more like he was wearing a blanket than a shirt.

  She’d noticed over the past few weeks that all of his clothes were oversized for some reason; baggy and loose, hiding most of his frame in folds and fabric. She wasn’t sure how he’d even found such ill-fitting clothes, considering all the clothing the tailors had supplied her with had been perfectly made to fit her measurements. She was itching to get him a shirt that didn’t go halfway to his knees. And maybe add something to his outfit that wasn’t just a slightly different shade of ‘big shirt’ or a slightly different color of socks. Overalls, maybe overalls . . .

  “It’s been over a week,” he mumbled. “There weren’t any tickets left for days before the ball.” He sunk further down in his seat. Soon he’d become a slug.

  “You seem pretty miserable,” she observed. “What’s up with that? Didn’t like the party?”

  “No, that was . . . that was fun.”

  “Yeah, everyone dressed up all fancy, the huge ballroom, the food, gosh, the amount of food . . .”

  It really had looked like a scene straight out of one of her favorite books. All that luxury and splendor set up for her. The light crystals sparkling from the chandeliers, reflecting off the polished floors, the music of an orchestra, the chatter of an entire room filled with people. Albeit, people whispering behind their hands at her . . . but quite a few with diamond earrings to be taken. If she’d stayed, she could’ve made a fortune just slipping bracelets off wrists and necklaces off throats.

  But she hadn’t.

  Instead, she’d followed the princess outside. They’d danced together out on the grass, and she had seen something beneath that pretense of perfection — someone competitive and snarky and fun. Asimi hadn’t realized the wonders a smile could do for that face.

  “It’s just — that place,” Zeid said, waving his hand towards the window. “And seeing it again.”

  “I thought you liked your mom.”

  “I do.”

  “So what’s the problem?” she asked, swinging her legs. “She makes great food. So much food. Oooh, man, I can’t wait to eat her food.”

  “It’s . . . something else,” he muttered, almost quiet enough that she couldn’t hear. He then turned his head to stare broodingly out the window.

  She wasn’t sure what he was talking about. If his mom wasn’t the problem, then what was? But maybe it was all a facade. Maybe he’d been sworn to silence. Maybe Ms. Pnevma secretly enjoyed forcibly chopping off her son’s hair.

  She glanced at Zeid’s hair. It didn’t seem forcibly chopped off. It looked more like he’d given himself a very sloppy haircut and decided it was good enough if it didn’t get in his face. It was very fluffy. And very messy. She wondered if she could brush through it, or if the hair would swallow up any comb like some kind of strange creature. She was really tempted to sneak a brush in there and see how long it took him to notice.

  She looped her fingers through her lockpicks, then fiddled with her bootlaces. The silence was growing unbearable. She’d always hated the suffocating stillness of silence – lack of sound meant lack of witness. She switched her hand to a pocket and said, “Wanna see a trick?”

  Zeid glanced at her, head lifting so that he looked a bit less like a dying slug.

  That’s more like it. She held up a coin and grinned.

  ?????

  “Mmmmm,” Asimi said, stuffing another cupcake in her face. “Mmph, so good. Mmmm.” She picked up the bag of goodies she’d gathered, and promptly dashed out the door, leaving a trail of crumbs in her wake.

  Philia smiled for a moment, the corners of her eyes crinkling before she sighed and grabbed a broom. “I’m glad to see you again,” she murmured.

  “I’ll do that,” Zeid said, taking the broom from her. “You have enough going on.”

  “It’s only been a week . . .” she mused. “Feels like forever, since I’ve seen you.” She set a hand on his shoulder, stopping him briefly to kiss him on the head. “How is everything? The Presentation Ball . . . how was that?”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “You know about that?” he asked.

  “It’s an old tradition.”

  “I didn’t know about that, until I — until the rock chose me.”

  “It didn’t seem important . . .”

  “Everyone else seems to know so many things I’ve never heard about,” he muttered.

  “. . . Are you upset?” she asked, quietly.

  He shook his head. “I’m not upset, I’m just . . . confused.”

  She didn’t look at him. Her eyes grew distant again, as she twisted that silver ring around her finger . . . around and around and around.

  The broom grew still in his hands. ". . . Mom, why?" he asked. "Why did you only tell me that the legacy rocks were deadly, and nothing else? Everyone else seems to know about their mythical powers or whatever, the way they choose holders —"

  "I didn't want you to go near them," she murmured. "I didn't want . . ."

  "It to choose me?" he asked. "Why not? Look at us — we're so much better off now. I mean, I didn't like it either, at first, but it still — it's better than . . . We have money now, and you can finally someday leave this entire town and go somewhere better and have a better life . . ."

  ". . . Maybe," she said. "Maybe it is better than . . . what you had before. And I'm glad you left, I really am. I'm glad you're in a better place. But I hate having to worry for your life."

  "You've always worried for my life! Because —"

  "Zeid. You have no idea what they might make you do."

  "I . . . what?"

  "Tessera's government is full of terrible people with terrible goals, willing to do anything to reach them," she said. "They broke your father's mind —"

  "He's not my father."

  ". . . He was part of —"

  "A specialized military unit, I know," he grumbled.

  "I know you may want to serve your kingdom, or make Tessera proud —"

  "I don't," he said immediately. "I don't care about Tessera."

  ". . . They will ask you to make unbelievable sacrifices."

  "I won't make them," he said.

  "It's not that simple."

  "It can be."

  ". . ." She sighed. "Please, be careful. Don't be so reckless with your life."

  “. . . Okay.”

  She hugged him, and he couldn’t manage to hold any hint of resentment against her. He just felt tired; tired as he always felt. Would it really have changed a thing if she had told him? He probably wouldn’t have cared. He probably would’ve gone anyway, knowing with a certainty that none of the stones would choose him . . . and then gotten twice the amount of shock and disbelief when Courage, of all things, decided to make him its holder.

  And their life . . . it was better, now.

  “Mom —” he began, again. “Mom, just come with me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? You don’t have to stay here, please —”

  “I can’t leave him like this.”

  “Why? What has he ever done for you?”

  “Zeid, please,” she whispered.

  He bit his tongue and hugged her tighter. All the power in the world was worth nothing if he couldn’t keep their family safe. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if refusing to see reality could somehow make it go away.

  ?????

  “Mmmm, your mom makes the bessttt muffins,” Asimi beamed, carrying her load of chocolate treasures back to the train station. “Sooooo good. You want some?”

  Zeid didn’t respond.

  She leaned forward. “Uuuh, Zeid? Theia to Zeid?” She adjusted the weight of her stuff to one arm, then snapped her fingers in front of his face.

  He flinched, and the expression on his face, when he turned to her . . . terrified.

  . . . Okay, wasn’t expecting that.

  She lowered her hand.

  Won’t do that again.

  He blinked, then shook his head, as though trying to shake off a cloud of fog. “What?”

  “Muffin,” she said, pointing inside her bag. “Mouth?”

  “. . . I’m good.”

  They sat down on the train platform, waiting for their ride to arrive. She whistled as she stared out at the blue, blue sky, the clusters of trees dotting the distance, the faraway shimmer of a lake. She glanced over and caught him staring at the train tracks with the dullest expression she’d ever seen.