He trilled then, turning to look at me as if I was more fascinating than the view of these award-winning gardens."A supernova is an explosion," Araxis said."A fitting metaphor, I think."He might have said it like he was sad, but instead, his voice was warm, amused, like it could be our private joke.
Like maybe we could reach a point where we could joke about what had happened.
Something inside of me released, like a knot in a muscle.A tension I hadn't realized was there.
"You said you're a bit of a mystery to yourself."I started toward the door that led from the clifftop to the next biosphere – an arid desert that mimicked the region of a voltaar holy site that no one was ever allowed to visit."I realize that I don't actually know that much about you."
"You know a great deal about me," Araxis said carefully, following me through the door.It opened into a short hallway between the two zones, almost like an airlock, and for a moment, we were tucked away in the quiet space between worlds.Liminal.
I turned, my hand hovering over the handle of the next door."I knowsomethings about you.But I don't know what it was like for you growing up, or what happened to your creche, or who you lost along the way.Maybe – I don't know, maybe you don't want to tell me.Maybe it's private.That's okay too."
Araxis's stare flicked quickly over my features, evaluating."I don't know these things about you either, Sashen.Ah, that is not true: I know slivers and fragments, because of the testimony you gave.But those weren't pieces you gave to me willingly."
I didn't say anything, because of course he was right.I hadn't wanted anyone to know.I didn't like people to know.It was hard enough to talk about the damage Seraphim had left me with.Addressing the specifics felt like an impossible ask, like it was simultaneously too much to ever describe and somehow not enough, like no matter how many words I used, no one would ever understand or ever see how or why what they'd done to me had broken me in some permanent, irreparable way.
"Of course I would like you to know," Araxis said, firm."There is nothing I will not share with you."Something like guilt flashed across his features, and I knew he was thinking about the many times he'd lied to me before I fought my way to the truth.I could see the realization in his stare, the sudden shift in the angle of his shoulders.He cleared his throat."I know I have not always –"
"We're not doing apologies yet," I said, and I pushed open the door behind me and stepped into the bright light of an arid desert.The temperature was cool, although it would be much hotter on the planet this was meant to mimic; the gardens, I'd read on our way in, were adjusted to be tolerable for most species, although each region might not becomfortable, strictly speaking.
Araxis followed in silence as we trekked along the path down a dune and through a forest of dead trees, tiny flowering succulents growing in garlands along their bleached limbs.I glanced at him, and saw that his jaw was tense, his hands clasped behind his back.Turning everything over in his head, chastising himself.
And, fair, heshouldchastise himself.But there was a difference between being aware that he'd fucked up and kicking himself about it all the time, forever.He was here, with me, on adatedespite my very best intentions and my better judgment.
Moments like this reminded me that Ididknow a bit more about relationships than he did, because at least I knew how to talk to clients about themselves – and surely, that had to translate.So I asked, "When were you last in the empire?"
He looked up at me, surprised."It has been nearly fourteen years."
We rounded a corner and came across a section of trees that weren't dead, although their leaves were a strange gold colour, their bark growing in angular scale-like segments.Overhead, the branches formed a tangled canopy.It was similar enough to the Tournament arena that it gave me the tiniest moment’s pause, before I gave my head a quick shake and set myself back on course."So you've been on the run even longer than me."
He inclined his head."I suppose that is true, yes."
"And was that when Creche Thiel was stricken from the – uh –" I reached for the term in abayan, "Hall of Records?"
"No, that was afterwards.Our head of house anticipated what might happen and split the creche to assure I was safe, and Vivith as well."He paused as I stopped to look at a particularly impressive lichen that was growing out of the heart of one tree, a gleam of metallic silver rising like spray up the bark."It was wise: those still on Thelessia when the word came through were forced to join other creches, if they were ishik.The ships had already arrived."
"And what happened to your head of house?"I asked, although I suspected I knew.
"She was executed.As were the other arkathi of any standing.This is customary when a creche is stricken.It is why it is so challenging to rebuild."
I turned to look at him, his hands still tucked behind his back, his posture upright, but I'd heard the tension in his voice when he recounted it."Did you know her well?"I asked, then, gently.Because I knew that a creche could be massive: the Creche Athal ship had five hundred permanent residents, and that was just their flagship.Some of the biggest creches might have thousands who claimed connection, split between branches and smaller creches that might have dedicated the entirety of their house into service.
Araxis looked past me, into the distance where sand dunes rippled out across the dome.Beyond the undulating hills, the chatter of voices rose in a soft chorus as people walked the main path, segmented away from us."Yes," he said."Thalidi was very present when I was growing up.She was cinelaat, like Vivith.She was older than is customary for a cinelaat to raise hatchlings, but she gathered our eggs herself and saw us from our shells."
My heart ached as I watched him – stoic and careful."She was your parent," I murmured.
He nodded, and then continued to follow the path as it curved past the edge of the forest and toward the glinting door into the next region.I jogged to catch up, reaching for his wrist and tugging him to a stop."You and Vivith talked about Thalidi, before they left," I said, the name familiar but the grief and respect with which he said it even more so.My fingers stayed fastened around his cool skin.
Araxis nodded, but offered nothing else.I thought of the way Vivith had spoken to Araxis, of the way they'd been picking at him over these past weeks.The arguments, the digs at his gender, the way Vivith undercut his authority at every turn.
I sucked on the inside of my cheek."Feel free to tell me it's none of my business –" I began.
"Everything isyour business," Araxis corrected.
"It'snot," I insisted."I know how complicated these things can be.The difference between us is that I ran as far away as I could from my family problems; you've chosen to stay put and work through yours."Araxis opened his mouth to protest, so I forged on, not wanting to lose my nerve.I was prying and I knew it, but I wanted to understand."How did you decide thatyouwould lead the creche?Vivith is cinelaat; they're arkathi.They could have.But – Was the plan always for you to lead, if things with Creche Thiel went… wrong?"
The light above us was bright, so I could track the movement of Araxis's black eyes, how they seemed to flicker over my features as he thought hard about what I’d been babbling about.I could see the sudden tension, the flare of something tender; I'd prodded a bruise without meaning to.Maybe something worse than a bruise.
I let go of his wrist.
