#anyways i do think about old caleb and essek hanging out and i need to lie down. is there any good fic that gets it.

[astrid-beck]

also matt liked a tweet saying essek wouldn't care about caleb aging

Like I'm sure he'd be sad about his friend and lover dying but that's just what being human means

[laerrynseelie]

shadowgast in "cowboy like me"

hello and welcome to another episode of Coco projects all of her issues onto Caleb Widogast and also cries about the Other Gay Purple Wizard™. this episode is sponsored by severe sleep deprivation and being in the airport at 6am, which is where I wrote most of this. but this is also something I've been yelling about for weeks, primarily at @theravenkingscourt and @dinah-lance, sponsored by taylor swift and emotions.

I will begin this dissertation with the song "cowboy like me" by Taylor Swift, from the album "evermore." those overlapping in the taylor swift and critical role fandoms have spent a long while yelling about how cowboy like me was MADE for shadowgast, and it is. here is my most recent annotation of the song lyrics (spoilers, obvs):

cowboy like me has many lines that have a direct, literal line to shadowgast, such as "the old men that I've swindled" == Ikithon, etc. but the things I want to highlight here are the themes it presents, and why I hold these boys so near and dear to my heart, and maybe why you do too. (also cc: @shadowgastweek)

many lines repeat but can have various, literal and metaphorical meanings. "eyes full of stars" can be about Rosohna, the dumancy floor of the tower, or ambition and power and desire. the fun thing about this is that they all connect together into a wonderful constellation of pain :) without Essek's ambition, the beacons wouldn't have gotten to the Cerberus Assembly, and they may have never met. without Caleb's ambition, he may have never been at the Solstryce Academy, ended up with a beacon, in Rosohna, or met Essek, or learned dunamancy, or have the floor of endless possibility. and much of this is put aside for the Nein and each other. "never thought I'd meet you here" indeed.

the bridge and third stanza of this song go SO. HARD. I have spent MONTHS yelling about the hanging gardens of babylon and no I will not stop. first of all, it's just a great fucking line. "now you hang from my lips / like the gardens of babylon" bitch are you FUCKING kidding me. the story of the gardens is that the queen missed her homeland, which had sprawling greenery, and so the king made her a garden that went around the palace and over roofs. (hey hey hey, gravity, xhorhaus, tower, you get it.) and I want to focus on the question on if the gardens actually exist. there are no surviving babylonian texts that mention the gardens, and no archaeological evidence that it ever existed. so it is a story that no one can confirm, or something completely obliterated by time and society. (or misattributed and was actually a different garden but shh it doesn't fit as well) for me, that's a strong allegory for the queer experience, and looking back at history and relationships. moreover, let's think about Caleb and Essek's interactions, and the fear of showing affection == being outed. studying together, talking close, forehead kisses. something that is not confirmed, or will be obliterated by their circumstances.

a theme that stands out from "cowboy like me" is this idea of wanting love. as a queer asian immigrant kid and a sociology student, the conditions of unconditional love is a concept that fascinates me. societally, unconditional love is talked about a lot, especially in relation to families, which we know if not always the case, and we fear it constantly. it’s hiding bad grades from your parents, or feeling like you need to prove yourself to earn love. it’s going to a pride parade and removing the stickers and face paint on the train home. it’s the fear of abandonment, of what if this is what makes it too much to love me. there was a post floating around (hehe, floating) about how both caleb and essek skirted around the ACTUAL worst things that they've done when asked about it. throughout the campaign, something that Caleb and Essek have gone through, not just with each other but the rest of the Nein, is hiding the unforgiveable things they’ve done because they think that will make them leave. and they take every unforgiveable thing, and they love them anyway. these things still happened, and that’s not okay, and they don’t dismiss it, and maybe, just maybe, if people can love them despite every unforgiveable thing, maybe they can let themselves be loved. maybe they can love themselves. and maybe, they can love, too.

the fear of love not being enough is also threaded through the song. in the case of shadowgast, it's the question of country, of war, political positions, familial desires, friends, location. (it's the question of if matthew mercer will let shadowgast be endgame goddammit.) in caleb's words, it's complicated. the Nein have defeated a lot "with the power of friendship," but what if it's not enough? what if they don't get Molly back, or they're corrupted by the eyes, or they can't get Veth back to her family? what if Trent gets Essek, or Caleb, or the Dynasty finds out, or Astrid and Eadwulf betray them, or they find their way back to old paths of power and ambition. what if love isn't enough?

"and the skeletons in both our closets / plotted hard to fuck this up" hurts me. taylor swift's bridges never miss. first of all, in closets, gay, obligatory pun, yada yada yada. it's also all the unforgiveable things they've done, war and Caleb's family, "important" but "not good" intentions, and all the people who threaten them now, ex. cerberus assembly, bisexual maelstrom, and the fact that Essek worked with the very people who abused and manipulated Caleb. all these previous fears are present in this line.

and when we see someone who is healing, who is loved, doesn't that give us hope? and isn't that present throughout critical role's history? we get to see full grown adults still enjoy a hobby, with a solid group of friends, tell us stories about growth. tell us healing is possible. Liam is Caleb and the Nein, showing this to us, Essek.

I will leave you with this. there is a theory that every relationship we have is a reflection of our relationship with our parents. every relationship is us trying to get that first relationship right, this time. this is fascinating to look at for each of the M9 (Beau and her aggression and strength and standing up against authority; Jester and her positivity and kindness and acceptance; Fjord needing to be strong and taking control), but of course I'm going to talk about Caleb. think of Caleb and Ikithon. think of Caleb and Veth. think of Caleb's need to prove he is good enough, not just in power and intelligence and ambition, but that he is good. that he is good enough. think of how his intelligence is his armor and his weapons, both literally and figuratively. at making sure Veth gets back to her family. of showing off for Essek, believing in Essek and in Essek's goodness. Essek being Caleb's foil is beautiful, but what if this is Caleb, making sure that this time, they survive.

[sockablock]

(start) - (previous) - (next)

Chapter 4: Just a Parlor Trick

“—and this is your room! Or it will be, soon, once we get your stuff moved in.”

A blur of curls flew past Nott and dove headfirst onto the bare mattress. Two-feet-two of little halfling boy sprung up, danced around in a circle, and surveyed his new kingdom by bouncing on the bed.

It was—as Nott would be the first to admit—pretty bare at the moment. Caleb had already taken all of his belongings, but there hadn’t been that much to begin with. Aside from the bed-now-turned-trampoline, there was just an oak wardrobe, and a rug. The only other fixture of note was the window, framed by thin blue drapes, currently open and letting in the sea breeze.

“What do you think, Luc?” Yeza grinned from the doorframe. “How do you like it?”

“The ocean is so cool!” Luc’s hair flew around in a storm as he jumped. “And the people—there’s so many people, Dad! That big turtle at the restaurant—his back had a pipe in it!”

Nott felt the ghost of a touch on her arm. When she caught Yeza’s tentative expression, she forced herself to relax into it.

The illusion had held so far, hadn’t it? And besides, her husband already knew the truth.

“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” Then she gave her son a smile. “And what do you think about the house, sweetie? Do you like your room?”

Luc, mid-air, gave this some thought.

“It’s smaller than my old room,” he said. “The window is bigger. Can I put my pictures up?”

There was a box of posters somewhere in the moving van. Apparently, some time in the last three years, Luc had gotten incredibly invested in a semi-popular cartoon series featuring a team of adventurers who solved mysteries in the Marrow Valley. Yeza had told her during one of their rare reunions that the clerk at the store was all but giving them away; something about increasing promotional awareness.

“Of course you can put your pictures up, Luc.”

He beamed a freckled, toothy smile.

“I like it, Mom! Can I put them up now?”

— — —

Jester hummed cheerfully to herself as she made her way through the streets of Nicodranas.

The novelty of such an act was not lost on her, and not just because she’d spent most of her life indoors—the last time she’d hurried down a road like this, it’d been under much less enjoyable circumstances.

But Jester had more tricks up her sleeves these days, and skipping between street merchants and bustling crowds, weaving through the Opal Archways in the middle of rush hour, she was certain she could hide from any watching eyes.

She squeezed the picnic basket in her arms, packed tight with the best pastries money could buy. She’d keep an eye out, too, for that little sidewalk café that did the strawberry-mango drinks Momma liked, though Jester suspected that her mother was just feigning enthusiasm to get her to eat more fruit.

The stoplight above flickered twice, then turned green. She looked both ways, then skipped across the street.

Maybe she should make a stop for sandwiches. And flowers, while she was at it—and over there, a book sale! Now that Jester was finally back home, with the Chateau such an easy walk from her apartment, every weekend she did her best to bring the whole city to her mother’s boudoir.  

Not that—and here she giggled at the thought—Momma needed any help there.

The Ruby of the Sea was busy, after all. Just not too busy for her little sapphire.

— — —

The thing was, Essek’s mother was busy.

She was always busy, and with good reason at that; for longer than Essek had even been alive—and how much longer before that, gods knew—Deirta Thelyss had been the Umavi of Den Thelyss, and therefore a permanent and immovable fixture in the intricate political dance of the Kryn Dynasty.

In another life, perhaps, Essek might have followed in her footsteps and joined her in running the country—though, if she got her way, there was a good chance that he ultimately would. But, as the Dynasty and Empire so far had managed to maintain a tenuous hold on peace, currently there was little need for a person of Essek’s particular talents.

The irony of that statement occasionally made him want to laugh, though he didn’t much feel like laughing now. It had taken a considerable amount of willpower to even drag him over to his desk, and there he sat with his forehead to the surface, lamenting that going back to bed hadn’t solved his problems.

Why was Mother bothering to attend the upcoming Clovis Concord Gala? Not a single one of these coastal cities was closely allied with the Dynasty, and the sheer geographical distance between them made the two nations vaguely aware of each other at best. In fact, Essek had chosen Nicodranas specifically because of how little the Bright Queen cared about it.

Which meant the unavoidable fact of the matter was that Mother was coming just for him.

The wood of his desk was cold on his head. If she were here now, she’d tell him to sit up.  

Actually, she’d probably say much more than that. If Verin was telling the truth—and his brother had always been on his side when it came to Mother— fending off another round of her attempts to force him home would only be half the struggle.

He kicked his chair back and listened to the way his wheels slid across the floor. Distantly, he could just make out some muted shuffling coming from the kitchen, and he had to remind himself that it was probably not a burglar, but Caleb.

Today was his second day in the apartment, and the man would probably need a few days to settle in. Though, Essek noted with a hint of satisfaction, Caleb seemed like a very efficient person. He’d actually…quite enjoyed their negotiation last night, despite how long it ended up being. For just a few hours his fear of an impending maternal maelstrom had been staved off by the way Widogast sometimes quirked his eyebrow while he was reading, or by the way he’d gently tap the clip of his borrowed pen with his thumb…

Essek had let him keep it, afterwards. He hadn’t even considered doing otherwise.

And as that thought crossed his mind, his restful silence was shattered by a crash.

— — —

“Knock-knock, Momma!”

“Ah, Jester! Come in! Close the door behind—oh, bother.”

This was immediately followed with the sound of air snapping to fill a void, then another minor explosion accented by four scrabbling paws.

“Nugget! Oh, Nuggy, I’ve missed you so much—”

Marion Lavore hiked up her skirts and gently side-stepped the slobber on the floor. She made her way back to her chaise lounge just a moment after Jester peeled herself from the dog.

“He’s getting quite big,” her mother said, artfully removing the exhaustion from her tone. But two decades of living under Momma’s roof gave Jester all the hint that she needed.

“Oh, I want to take him back, I really do, but the apartment doesn’t let us have dogs.” Jester sank into a plush sofa with Nugget wagging his tail at her heels. He put his head in her lap and drooled.

“And…your luck with finding a…a new apartment?”

“We’ve all been busy, Momma,” Jester sighed. “Beau is working all day long to set up a new library by the Quay, and Yasha disappears all the time even though she’s…feeling better now. I think it’ll be a while until everything’s calmed down and we can look.”

Marion pointedly did not think about the many curtains that Nugget had already eaten in three months.

“Ah, well. I understand. And how are you doing, my sweet?”

Jester giggled. “I’m doing good! I’ve been drawing and painting a lot by the sea, and keeping busy with other arts and crafts. Did you know people on the Internet will buy dozens of tiny clay dick statues? The Traveler thought it was very funny.”

Her mother’s expression was an ocean of calm. “Oh, is that…is that so? Well, I’m glad to hear you’re finding ways to…spend your day.”

“I brought some to show you!”

“Oh, how...lovely…”

“Some paintings, Momma.” Jester set aside the picnic basket and fished around in her knapsack. The bag was a horrifically pink mess of burlap and loud, jangly pins. Jester had to shove aside quite a few rolls of brushes and capped paints as she searched.

Marion watched her work with interest. “Well, even if you had brought a…the statue, I would—oh, Jester. It’s beautiful!”

Jester beamed as her mother took the canvas, gingerly like it was—and it was—fine art.

In her hands, a stunning landscape of the sea beside Nicodranas at dawn, pale pink light glancing off the tide and a thin breath of sun just above the water.

“It’s for you, Momma!”

“Oh, Jester, I couldn’t possibly—”

“Take it.” She laughed. “I have lots more at home, but this one’s my favorite so you should have it.”

Decades of living with a burgeoning artist had taught Marion not to hug the piece to her chest, though she quite wanted to.

“I’ll hang it up, then. In a place of honor,” she said seriously. “Maybe heading up the stairs? The light there is lovely, and that way I know the most important people will get to see it.”

Jester’s smile could have swallowed up the world. “Thanks, Momma.”

“No, thank you, my sweet. Now, come. What else have you been doing? What’s new and exciting with your…what did you call yourselves? The Mighty Nein?”

Jester helped her mother lay out a feast’s worth of pastries across the coffee table. Nugget eyed the bounty like a lit fuse until Jester also produced a chewing bone, which he gleefully snapped up and began to gnaw.

“I wanted to make sure we didn’t have a repeat of last time, so I stopped by a pet store,” she explained, munching on a strawberry tart. “And we’re all doing good! Caleb’s move went well, and Nott’s family just landed.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” her mother said. “You know, it would not have been a problem for them to stay with me. At least while they got settled.”

“I know, I know, but I think since she already had a place, she wanted them there, you know? And anyway, she said she didn’t want to impose.”

“Of course,” Marion nodded. “And perhaps the Chateau is…it would be a bit unconventional for a family to stay here, hm?”

“We did it!”

“We did, but we are an unconventional family.”

Jester laughed, then brushed a few crumbs off her skirt. “What have you been doing lately, Momma? Any news? Any interesting clients?” She waggled her eyebrows for emphasis.

“Well,” her mother smiled faintly, “actually, I…might have something interesting to tell you. I was, ah…well, I was invited to a party. To sing, but also as a guest.”

“What?!” Jester threw her hands in the air. “Oh, Momma, that’s amazing!”

“I, ah…might decline.”

Jester’s elation vanished instantly. “Oh, Momma. Is it…the outside…?”

Marion shrugged. It was a decidedly unrefined gesture, and left a little crinkle in her robe. “I’m just…well, you know I’ve made a little progress since you got back, but…I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d feel so comfortable being in a place like that alone.”

Jester reached across the table to pat her mother on the hand. “I understand. It’s probably just a dumb party anyway, I’m sure you won’t be missing much!”

“It’s…well, it’s the 400th Anniversary Gala of the Clovis Concord.”

“Oh, man.”

“Tell me about it, dear,” Marion sighed.

There was a moment’s pause, filled with the sound of thoughtful chewing.

And then:

“What if we went with you?”

Marion blinked twice.

“I beg your pardon?”

— — —

They left Luc in his new bedroom happily slapping tape to the wall. Yeza had been worried that this would damage the paint when they’d eventually have to take down his posters, but Nott reassured him that getting back the safety deposit for this apartment was already a lost cause.

“There was a…small incident,” she said, as he poured her tea, “involving electricity. And…a mild fire.”

“Oh, man. Did you guys blow the fuse box or something?”

Nott debated whether or not exploding a microwave with voltaic bolts fell under that category.

“Mm, yeah, it was something like that.” She watched him sink into the chair across the table, paying special attention to the way his glasses bounced on his nose.

He hadn’t needed glasses three years ago. He hadn’t been quite so pale, either.

“So, how is your friend Caleb?” Yeza asked, tilting his head slightly at her silence. “Is he alright? Settled in and everything?”

Nott quickly scrounged up her smile. “He is! Actually, his place is really nice. Cheap, too, from what I’ve heard.”

“Oh, that’s great,” Yeza sipped his tea, leaving a little half-crescent above his lip. “I was worried about him. You told him for me, right? How much I appreciate this?”

“Of course I did. And I told him plenty that he didn’t have to, but he really insisted, and…well. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that he did.”

Yeza put a biscuit in her hands. “We’ll send him a fruit basket, then. With pineapples! Heck, I should send one to all of your friends, for pitching in for the plane tickets. They’re really kind.”

“They are pretty great, aren’t they?” Nott took a bite, coating her tongue with chalky crumbs. “They’ll probably be around at some point—they want to see you and the boy again.”

“Is the tall one still around? With the pink hair? I liked him.”

Nott gave a laugh. “I’ll tell him you said that. It’s been quiet these last few days, you know, so it’ll really be great to have the company back. Not that—oh, gods, not that you and Luc aren’t—”

“I get it, I get it,” Yeza shook his head. “Don’t worry. Like we said over the phone, right? It’ll take…there’ll be an adjustment period.”

Nott set her mug down on the table. Her smile was a little less firm now.

“You and Luc are here,” she said again, quietly. “You’re here, but I…I’m talking about my friends, I shouldn’t be saying those things, should I? I…should focus on you two—”

“Hey, no, Veth. Not at all.”

“But it is unfair,” she sighed. “I…sweetie, I’m so happy to see you, and the boy, but now that…Caleb’s gone, and the two of you have moved in, a…a part of me, an awful part of me, already misses—”

“Veth, it’s okay—"

“It’s not, I mean we’re married—gods, wait, I’d never betray—”

“Veth.”

A hand touched her shoulder. Yeza’s voice was low and soft. “Honey, it’s okay. It really is okay, and I…I know. It’s complicated. I know. We haven’t been a family for a while—and none of that is your fault, it just isn’t. It’s just…been a tough few years, for us, but also especially for you. I doubt I could’ve survived what you’ve been through, after all. And things have changed—I’ve changed, I mean—I snore again, and I’ve gotten used to Edith helping around our house, and…I guess what I’m trying to say, is that it’s only natural…it’s only fair, that you’re allowed to change too. It’s okay. We talked about this, right?”

“Right,” Nott murmured.

“So it’ll be okay. We’ll make it work. And it’s still you, right? You still love me, right?”

She felt herself nod. Then, gently, “I didn’t stop loving you.”

“Well, that’s good. Neither did I.”

This time, she risked a glance up, and saw his smile. Yeza’s smiles were always a little lop-sided, smushing his freckles, and crinkling one eye. She’d made fun of that when they were younger, and let go of a breath when she saw that hadn’t changed.

As she exhaled, she gave a nod. Then a chuckle.

“Right. Right. Of course we will. We’re…probably going to have to enroll Luc in school. It—it’s summer now, but when autumn swings around…what is he? In first grade? In second?”

Yeza laughed. “This fall will be his first year of school.” Then his eyes widened. “Oh, gods, it’s his first year of school. He…I don’t even know if he’s ready, if he’s…wait, is it different in Nicodranas? Are there tests? Is this a good school district, I—I didn’t even check—”

This time, it was Veth who stopped him. “Relax,” she said, and poked Yeza’s nose. “His dad is the most brilliant chemist in the world. We can look up all that other stuff.”

She brushed his cheek with her other thumb. “Like you said. We’ve got this. We’ll make it work.”

— — —

It had started with a recipe for blueberry muffins.

It had ended, more or less, somewhere around the time that Caleb realized neither he nor Essek owned measuring cups—and anyway, the blueberries were looking a little mushy so maybe he should wait until next week to surprise the Brenattos, that way he’d have a chance to get better ones, even though their move-in day was technically today—

And at that point, Frumpkin had jumped into the cabinet, dislodging what sounded like years’ worth of unused pots, knocking down an avalanche of dusty pans.

The last skillet clanged like thunder as it spun to a stop on the floor.

“Mist. Frumpkin—”

Ever the cat, Frumpkin deftly wove out of Caleb’s grasp and darted for the counter. He perched himself unblinking at the edge of the sink and licked his paw, as if for emphasis.

Caleb sighed. He crouched down to reach for the nearest displaced kitchen implement, a stock pot.

“You know,” he began, exasperated, “you could at least help me out with this mess.”

“Is that so?”

He whipped around so quickly that his head hit the handle of a drawer. One hand flew up, he startled, “Miste—Essek?”

His landlord raised a curved eyebrow. With the mid-afternoon light streaming in through the windows, the purplish tint to Essek’s complexion was something akin to a dusting of twilight. His hair was half-tousled, like it’d been mussed by something, and his hand lingered on the doorknob.

“I…my cat,” Caleb managed. “That is, er. I apologize. Deeply. For the commotion.”

Essek looked him over. “I thought we had agreed on silence last night, no?”

Caleb hung his head, and he could feel disappointment coming, undoubtedly with despair on its coattails.

“I have broken the terms,” he said mutely. “I…I am sorry. I understand what that means.”

His gaze clung to the polished floor. Which was why he missed it when the heavy stock pot took on a faint, shimmering, blueish glow. And then the saucepan began to shine. And then a wok, a spatula, a bowl—

All of the fallen cookware slowly began to rise through the air. As they moved, a parade past Caleb’s amazed expression, slipping by Frumpkin’s outstretched paw, each individual pot righted itself, formed into lines, then were quickly and neatly whisked away into the cabinet above.

The doors clicked as they shut.

“I…but that—what spell was that?”

Mentally, Caleb kicked himself. He should’ve apologized.

But Essek only chuckled. “Oh, that was just a parlor trick. An idle curiosity about the…shall we say, limits of gravity. Particularly regarding how easy they are to break.”

Caleb scrambled up to his feet. “But I have never seen control like that on such a grand scale before. Your spell, it—Telekinesis only controls one object at once.”

“Well,” Essek allowed himself a smirk. “Telekinesis is a watered-down version of what true dunamancy can accomplish. I will say, even getting that far was impressive. I have seen your documentation.”

“Gods,” though, Caleb noticed, there was not a trace of resentment in his tone. “Here I thought our transmutative literature was the most advanced there was.”

Essek shrugged. “Please, do not misunderstand me. It is good, for Empire wizards, especially. Until then, I had been under the impression that your lot only excelled at evocation.”

“We are a dab hand at necromancy too,” Caleb said dryly, “if the stories from twenty years ago are believed.”

This actually won a laugh. “Maybe I am the one being too cruel. It was your people who pioneered the earliest manipulations of air elemental magic, no? It is truly an interesting method for conquering gravity.”

“Yours is better,” Caleb said, before he could stop himself. “If you think that a parlor trick, my friend, I hesitate to ask else you could accomplish.”

“Why hesitate?”

And then, Caleb blinked. Somewhere in the distance, Frumpkin nudged his shoulder, but in that moment, all he could focus on was Essek.

“I…excuse me?”

And with that, the spell was broken. Essek slid into a kitchen chair.

“Nevermind, nevermind,” he waved his hand. “And please. Do not worry about that mess. I am not so unreasonable to think that accidents can never happen. Just, ah…you have been a wonderful roommate so far. In the future…?”

“You have my word,” Caleb said. He slipped the carton of slightly-mushy blueberries behind him.

“Excellent,” Essek nodded. “Well. If that is settled, I might sit here and, ah…get some work done?”

Caleb, dense as he was, got the message. “I just—of course, I will be gone in a moment, I’ll just put these things away—”

“No rush at all. I am not in any hurry.”

And indeed, whether or not Essek was just being polite, it did seem like the man was…a bit distracted. Caleb had no right to poke into his business, which was a violation of Section II, Subsection IV anyway, but he couldn’t help but ask Frumpkin to take the tiniest peek at Essek’s face.

Something was bothering his landlord. And for once, still basking in the afterglow of powerful magic, Caleb was almost sure it wasn’t him.

He found out just as he was heading to his room.

“Might I, ah, ask you a question?”

Caleb had enough composure to turn around at a normal person’s pace.

“Yes?”

Essek ran a hand through his hair. “Actually, it…it is more of a favor.”

“Oh,” said Caleb. And when more was required, “Yes?”

“Yes already?” He blinked. “But I did not say what it was.”

“I meant,” Caleb amended, leaning against his doorframe, “please describe this favor to me.”

“Ah,” said Essek. “Right. I, er…”

How in the gods’ names was he supposed to phrase something ridiculous as this?

“I wonder…” he tried, “that is…if you might…would it be…are you perhaps…are you busy this weekend?”

Whatever he was expecting, this absolutely was not it.

“I—no?” Caleb said, out of pure shock. Then he shook his head and added, “I do not think so, no.”

“Ah,” said Essek. Somehow he seemed even more uncomfortable now. “That is…excellent.” It did not sound excellent. “If…well, if that is the case, then…do you think you could…help me with something?”

Caleb waited patiently. “With something?”

“A date.”

“A what?”

“No—not—oh, gods, I am doing this wrong.” Essek actually put his head in his hands, and Caleb once again had to throttle his own surprise.

Then, in a move made by a part of him so bold he didn’t even know he still had it, Caleb re-entered the kitchen and down in the seat across from Essek.

“I think, perhaps you should start from the beginning.”

Essek nodded miserably. He breathed in.

“You are right, Caleb.”

He breathed out.

“So. It’s like this…”

— — —

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E96 (February 25, 2020)

Tonight’s guests are Taliesin Jaffe and Liam O’Brien!

Announcements: The Chicago live show and C2E2 are imminent! The live show will be on Thursday night, but an hour earlier than usual, at 6 PM Pacific/8 PM Central! Liam will be at the live show, but unfortunately has to leave C2E2 early and won’t be able to make it on Sunday. On Friday, the first behind-the-scenes video for The Legend of Vox Machina animated series was posted on YouTube, introducing the writing team!

Episode 96: Family Shatters

Stats for this week’s episode! Of the 16 times Caleb has cast Teleportation Circle, the M9 have remembered to contact someone prior to their arrival 7 times. Of those 7 times, they were successful at contacting someone at the location only 3. Taliesin: “We’re playing this game like Skyrim, we’re just going through people’s houses breaking pottery.” Caduceus got the straw hat that he gave to Clarabelle in episode 31, about 188 in-game days ago. There were 17 cow-related puns. Dani: “Is that above or below average for a Critical Role episode?”

“Clay was kind of built relatively quickly. I didn’t give Matt a ton to play with. I gave him the order in which they left, I gave him Clay’s attitude and his impression of his family members, which was usually just one sentence, and some basic idea of what their power set might be if they had one. I always thought of him as, from a family perspective, of what would have happened to Percy if nothing went wrong.” He was happy to be the one to run the family business and just hang around at home and run the shrine. “I think the rest of the kids’ wanderlust probably put them at odds quite a bit.” He liked being able to play that conflict and show what Caduceus was like when he was annoyed. Cad took after his father, the girls generally wanted to leave, and Colton is “just sort of a doofus.”

Caleb was an only child, so seeing this many kids was a lot. “They clearly had their grudges and their different dynamics with each other, but that’s normal, for sure. Caleb’s very unfamiliar with it.” He also keeps looking at Nott and thinking about how everything he’s doing is about wanting to rebuild his family, whereas Nott is so conflicted about going back to hers. “He doesn’t understand it, but he doesn’t want to push it” or judge her for it. “I thought I had a really defined direction at the start of the campaign, but my seven best friends have knocked it silly.”

What’s keeping Cad with the Nein? “Caduceus is not ready to go home at all. He’s not done with his walkabout. He feels like he wants to see a bit more. He feels he has an intense debt to pay. He feels he has a mission to see everybody else through, at the very least. Or at least he’s telling himself that. So he’s saved his home, or at least he thinks he’s saved his home, and his family’s all right, so now it’s debts that must be paid. He’s not somebody who thinks you can just get off the bus.”

“Caleb was going to ask [the hag] about the ability to travel backward through time, not really believing that she could do that, but was still like, show me what you’ve got.” Even if she’d said it, he would have thought she was a liar. “Probably would’ve offered to kill the M9″ in exchange, then would’ve turned around to hit her with a surprise Disintegrate. Liam notes repeatedly that nothing could possibly have been as cool as what Laura wound up doing.

On the Nein not worrying about places Cad considered sacred ground, Caduceus “is fine with conflict. He doesn’t even really have to have conflict, he could assert himself if he were so inclined. It’s that he’s aware that there are limits to what these people can do. It’s very much the philosophy of ‘children and drunks can do no wrong’.” He’s picking his battles.

Was there a defining moment where Caleb started seeing the Nein as family? No single moment. “It’s like love by a thousand cuts.” Liam notes that he’s still not sure how Caleb would react if he suddenly had the means to carry out his plans. “He’s got the recovering-addict mentality.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Pumat! (CriticalHitical, photo by Minniemooncos on Twitter)

Taliesin notes that Caduceus is definitely feeling more connected to the group. “If anything, Caduceus is really embracing his role as the spiritual guide to the group. He feels like he really has a lot to offer from that perspective of being the roving therapist. Or at least, he thinks he’s a roving therapist.” Liam notes that Cad is the most mysterious of the group to Caleb. “He’s the most religious character I’ve ever played, too. He’s fun! He really came together very nicely.”

On Caleb being more lighthearted on occasion: “He’s been out of practice being a human being for a long time.” The Nein’s brand of ridiculousness is rubbing off on him.

Why hasn’t Cad been pranking the Nein? “They don’t treat him poorly in that way yet. Siblings, man. I have quite a few siblings, and there is an energy. It’s the same way like when you’re around your parents, you revert to a 15-year-old.” Same with siblings. “There’s just something-- just the urge to torture them is so overpowering.” The moment he got the whistle, he knew exactly what he was going to do with it. Liam was reminded of Taliesin’s real-life siblings while watching these interactions in the game.

On Caleb’s laying on compliments for the Traveler: “The thing about time travel is it’s so implausible. It’s so implausible that I could see us finishing this campaign and Caleb will still have it in the back of his head for the rest of his life. But maybe Artagan could help with that. He certainly sees the potential in Artagan, and it was a balance between wanting to support everything Jester has devoted her life to, so it just felt like everyone was ready to write it off. Life is often like this, life isn’t what you thought it would be, it is what it is. Let’s not damn this yet, let’s feel it out. And if I can use this situation to possibly eradicate ultimate evil, that’s a win.”

Cad found it tough to have family and friends in the same room and play both roles. “I don’t know how much it came across that he was trying to keep them, not necessarily separated, but ‘family, guys, guys, family, ANYWAY.’” He did want to get his family on their way as quickly as possible. Cad is the equivalent of his early 20s, so something like 85-120 years old for a firbolg. 

Liam is asked about the conversation between Caleb and Yasha on watch several episodes ago. "You know what one of the best parts of that scene that played out was, is about 20 minutes or 30 minutes before that happened, I texted Ashley at the table and said, ‘Want to take watch? I have nothing planned, it could be fun.’” He wasn’t expecting it to go that far. “I think he had such an extreme reaction because he felt that he had done a good job of hiding things, and he was suddenly worried that he was transparent, that everyone had been able to read him this whole time when he’d thought that he was-- well, he’s a little in love with Jester Lavorre, and has been for a while, uselessly in love with her. The waltz was probably a little pebble. And in that moment-- this doesn’t play out verbally too much in the show, but he just was worried that this thing that he’s never going to admit to because it’s useless, she’s finding herself, and has her whole life ahead of her, and has other people around her who care about her and are a whole lot better for her than he is. And he’s aware of the way those two [Fjord and Beau] feel as well. It’s just there in the background fucking up his shit. It’s really just a problem. Big fucking problem.” 

Fan art of the week: a gorgeous Clay family portrait! (by Teaweltzer on Twitter)

On Clay being absent for the renewal of his home: “I don’t think his arc’s ending off-screen. I think his arc ends when he comes home to see what’s become of it.”

Is Caleb worried about Beau since the confrontation with her father? “Of course he is. She’s ignoring all the advice that she gave him. He doesn’t like to see her that hard on herself when she’s so competent and probably the backbone of the group. It’s the most judgey Caleb’s been of anybody, really, but he’s very aware of the pain of family and personal stuff. She knows her, and even though he broke his shit in half, he could still see the dynamic in the room when we visited his family, so he feels for her. We need you and we love you and we will miss you, you don’t fucking get to go.”

Each of the temples has a secondary god; what was the Blooming Grove’s other god? “The Blooming Grove is for the Archeart because it is a gift of beauty. It’s the Allhammer, the Changebringer, and the Archeart. It’s kind of a powerplay from the Wildmother, in my opinion. They’re all three based off of very specific types of funereal practices that are common throughout the world.”

Caleb saw giving over the transformation spell to Essek as a returning of one of his many favors. “Caleb likes Essek a lot. They’re like two highly gifted kids at school together. And, you know, he’s quirkily charming and handsome. There’s just no reason not to, in his mind. Outside of the M9, he’s probably the only person that Caleb would see as a friend that he’s made. Everyone else is just sort of scenery around the M9.”

What’s next for Cad? “It’s a little bit of finding himself, or at least finishing himself would be the way to put it.” (cue snickering from off-camera) “He’s also vaguely aware of some of the things that are going to possibly emotionally damage the party on the horizon, and he wants to be ready to deal with, in vague order, whatever’s going to happen to Jester, and then whatever’s going to happen to Fjord, and then whatever’s going to happen to Nott, and Yasha, and Caleb. He doesn’t know how to deal with what Beau’s going through. It’s the one thing he has no experience of, because he has no experience with that family dynamic. When he met people with that family dynamic, it was always at the end of it.”

Some fans sent in death whistles. Brian encourages Taliesin to play one on the plane.

The hat for Calliope was a last-minute thought. The flute could also have gone for Colton, depending on “who I could sneak up on”.

Caleb took a symbol of the Archeart from the Labenda Swamp. “I think it was familiar to me. I think I might have either correctly or mistakenly thought it reminded me of the woman who helped Caleb in the Sanatorium.”

[sockablock]

When in sudden need of a place to stay, Caleb Widogast finds a room for rent at a price so low he can’t believe his luck. Ignoring the worries of his friends, he moves in and quickly finds himself tangled up in the life of one Essek Thelyss, a reclusive scholar who may be even more socially awkward than Caleb himself.

(start) - (next) 

Chapter 1: Likewise, Mr. Thelyss

“It sounds suspicious,” Beauregard said. “There’s no way. He’s going to steal your organs.”

“I doubt—”

“Read my lips: no way.” She folded up a piece of paper and tossed it across the table. “Seriously, at a price like that? There’s gotta be a catch. Or…or there’s some kind of crime.”

Caleb Widogast tried to look reassuring. He largely failed, but this was normal.

“Ach,” he said, “is it so hard to believe that just maybe, my luck is turning around?”

She slowly broke apart a lemon muffin.

“Yes.”

She offered him half, which he glumly accepted.

The two of them were seated together at a table in the Wayfarer’s Cove, a small diner tucked away on the edge of the piers of Nicodranas. The windows here, though a bit stained, overlooked the Restless Wharf at noon, providing a clear view of tangled docks, bobbing ships, waves rushing up the harbor and sailors, merchants, and deckhands hard at work. Flocks of seagulls and the occasional migratory albatross swooped in overhead, their cries swelling up along the wordless stream of noise.

Back in the faded pleather seats of their diner, Caleb finished his muffin and brushed the crumbs off his hands.

“What other choice do I have, Beauregard? I am in no rush to return to the Empire—”

“Hear, hear—”

“—but I have nowhere to live if I remain here. This city is expensive. More expensive than I anticipated.”

Beau picked up her mug of coffee. “You could stay with Fjord and Caduceus,” she said. “Or you could tell Nott that you aren’t moving out.”

“But I promised. And more than that, I offered.” He ran a hand through his hair and immediately regretted the decision. It was sticky.

“Take the offer back,” Beau shrugged. She watched him fumble with a napkin. “Gods know the place is just as much yours as it’s hers. And it’s not so small that four of you couldn’t…well. I guess four is kind of a lot—”

“And Luc is five years old,” Caleb sighed. “He will be noisy enough for six people.”

“A Library—”

“Your library?”

She gave him a stern look. “I told you, it’s still being established. You’re going to have to wait another six months.”

He smiled faintly. “It was worth a shot, no? And anyway, I doubt even a Cobalt Library would let some uncredited stranger stay the night.”

“It’s shit that you’re doing this, you know that?” She took another sip of coffee. “I mean, it’s nice, but it’s this…this sort of self-sacrificial thing that’s gonna end badly.”

“Maybe,” he said, in a tone that suggested even “maybe” was too much of an agreement. “Nevertheless, I think it is the right thing to do. Nott has spent so much time separated from her family that she truly deserves this. She was missing them quite a bit anyway, and at least this way she will not be leaving us.”

Beau’s hard expression eased just a little. “Will she be…okay with them around? You know, in her cond—”

“She says she’s made arrangements. And anyway, I feel like I am getting closer. It just…will take time. And the sooner I firm up my own living situation, the sooner I can get back to work helping hers.”

Beau studied his face, and finally relented. “Alright, well…I wish I could help.”

Caleb stared into his mug. “I do not think I can stay with Fjord and Caduceus,” he said instead. “Their apartment is…very small. And I think they are still saving up to move somewhere else.”

“Gods, I mean, if Yasha hadn’t moved in with me and Jes after, well, after y’know—”

Caleb smiled again. This time, it almost reached his eyes. “I will see about this perspective roommate,” he said firmly. “Who knows? Maybe I am getting lucky.”

— — —

“—after the tone.”

Caleb rubbed his face and set down the phone. Filling his room—though doing that wasn’t very hard—were all of his worldly possessions, packed away.

He smoothed out the flyer, a bit rumpled now from its time shoved in his pockets, and read it over.

SEEKING: TENANT FOR HOUSE

One room Available to Rent $300/Month Internet Access, On-Site Laundry

Must be Quiet, Organized, Willing to Sort Recycling

NO DOGS

At least, he mused, scanning the last line, there would be no issue with dogs. And Caleb naturally was a quiet person, very amenable to learning how recycling worked. Beauregard’s accusations from earlier this morning did flit briefly through his mind, but in the face of a rental price that low, any concern of impending doom was promptly, seamlessly, quashed.

Besides, it wasn’t as if Caleb couldn’t defend himself. A single spool of silver thread went a long way.

He glanced at the number again, and re-dialed.

— — —

“No, Verin, as much as I appreciated your help, I do not think it will be necessary anymore.”

“Is it because of just the one recommendation? Because if you let me try again—"

From behind the kitchen counter, his microwave whirring and a coffee mid-pour, a young dark elf with short-cropped hair did his very best to hide a scowl.

“Verin, your recommendation came back every night at two in the morning and never once locked the door. He also clearly did not understand how to do his chores. And he left hair in the shower.”

“Ah, but he was quiet, wasn’t he?” This was followed by the sound of something smashing on the other line.

Essek sighed. His brother was many things—a good friend, a compassionate person, a true confidant—but calm or quiet was not one of them.

“Perhaps by your standards, Verin. Certainly not mine.”

Another noise, like someone laughing, then footfalls.

“You should lower your standards, then! You’re in a foreign city surrounded by strangers, and probably every one with different customs.”

“I was under the impression that silence was a universal language.”

“I think that is love. Or, actually, Common—”

Essek rolled his eyes and glanced at the microwave, which had just finished beeping. Leftovers from last night, re-heated, a delicacy for the preoccupied scholar. He slid over to retrieve it, lowered his phone, and only then did he notice the message across his screen: CALL INCOMING.

This wasn’t a number he knew, but with a growing sense of dread he noticed that it had already tried to call him twice…

He abandoned his lunch and pressed the phone to his ear.

“—but if Undercommon exists, then what does that say about us, really—”

“Shut up, Verin! Someone’s calling!”

“It—wait, what?”

“I’m hanging up! I’ll call you later!”

“Yes, you’d better! I still haven’t asked you about the—”

Essek ended the call. He took the briefest pause to compose himself, then hit answer.

“He—”

“Hal—”

A pause.

“I am so—”

“My apolog—”

They both stopped.

Essek began counting to ten. When he hit six, the voice on the other end of the line said:

“Ah, er, hallo, my name is Caleb Widogast, I am calling in regards to your, ah, your advertisement. Am I speaking to Mr. Essek Thelyss?”

Essek sat back down. “Yes,” he said smoothly. “I am Essek. You’re interested in the apartment?”

There was the faint rustle of fabric. “Yes. I am quite interested in renting.”

There was another pause. At the count of three, Essek gave up and took the initiative. “I am happy to hear that,” he said. “Have you reviewed the fee and the conditions? Do you have any questions?”

More rustling. This time it sounded like paper. “Er…no, actually. I am happy to agree to your requirements. Er…I do, ah, have…I have a cat—but, but if that is too unwelcome—”

“No, no,” Essek waved a hand. “A cat is more than fine. There is…yes, there should be space in a corner of the living room for…cat…things. Boxes. And…bowls? Yes, so long as you are amenable to cleaning up after, er, him?”

“Him,” the voice confirmed. “Frumpkin.”

“I see, er…charming.” Different customs, Verin had said. “Well, if there are no other issues, I would be happy to begin renting to you as soon as possible. I should mention, though, that while the clauses I stated earlier are the most important to me, I would also like to negotiate a contract with you regarding other details.”

“Oh, er…of course. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, they mostly focus on the division of space and…promises to keep? I would like my bedroom and study to remain off-limits, but you are welcome to any common areas you would like. I do not take up much space in the fridge, so if you wish to cook, that is fine, however I also ask you not leave a mess. Smaller details of this nature.”

“That is completely understandable,” the voice said. “If I am being honest, I believe it will make establishing boundaries and navigating our living situation much more clear-cut.”

“I am delighted you think so,” Essek said, finding that he actually was. “If that is the case, then…I would be happy to have you move in as soon as possible. Mister…Mr. Widogast, was it?”

“Ja. And that would be perfect. I, er, when exactly would you be ready to have me arrive?”

Essek tapped his chin. “Well, I normally do not spend much time in the unit, to be honest. But I was home this morning cleaning up after the last tenant, so the room will be available tonight.”

“Tonight!” There was a pause, and then a shuffle. “If that is no rush, then tonight is wonderful.”

“Excellent.” With one hand he nudged the microwave open again and retrieved his lunch. “In that case, I will see you tonight. I look forward to meeting you, Mr. Widogast.”

Essek heard a chuckle. And then he realized he’d been smiling as well.

“Likewise, Mr. Thelyss. See you tonight.”

— — —

“No.”

“Aw, come on—”

“No. I mean it.”

“But why not, Caleb?”

“She does have a point, you know,” Nott called from her perch atop the car. “We don’t know anything about this guy. He could be dangerous.”

“He could be a murderer,” said Jester. She was helping Caleb load the very last of his belongings onto the trunk. One last cardboard box joined to two smaller boxes, and a trunk.

“You will scare him into evicting me if you storm his building like that,” Caleb said. “And anyway, He sounded polite on the phone. I will not be getting a better price.”

“Luring you in with rent to die for,” Jester nodded.

He elected to ignore this, and instead turned to Nott. “It is not a bad neighborhood, either. I am sure everything will be fine.”

“But…are you really sure?” she asked. “I mean…if you need more time to look around, Yeza and Luc won’t be here for two more days.”

“I know, and thank you,” he said gently, “but I doubt two more days will be necessary.”

“I feel like I’m kicking you out,” she said wretchedly. “This was your house for as long as it was mine. And you’re my…well, I shouldn’t do this to you—”

Caleb quickly shook his head. “Do not say that, please, do not. It is more important to me that you and your husband will have a place to be together. Truly together, for once, and with your son.”

“If the apothecary hadn’t burned down—”

“But it did,” he said. “And now here we are. Do not worry. Please, do not worry.”

She met his gaze. “You’ll have to visit,” she said eventually. “Every weekend. And weekdays. At least twice.”

He nodded immediately. “I will do my best. You have my promise.”

She hopped down from the roof of the car, a landing so perfect any acrobat would be proud. Three foot four of determined goblin wrapped as much of him as she could into a hug.

He crouched down and hugged her back. After a moment, Jester joined in for the spirit of things. Her charms jingled and jangled as she moved.

And eventually, when Caleb was dimly beginning to realize they were blocking the sidewalk—

“You two, I am not leaving for another hour.” His voice was muffled. He was also feeling a bit warm.

“That’s nothing,” said Jester.

“I don’t care,” said Nott. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I am just a phone call away. Barely a bus ride.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She finally pulled back, and quickly wiped at her eyes. “You hear me?”

He smiled. Quite easily. “Loud and clear, Miss the Brave. I do.”

Jester tapped the side of the car. “Beau says she doesn’t need this ‘til later tonight. We could go out for some food?” Her voice was hopeful. “There’s a really good place that I heard about that does these big milkshakes—”

Nott elbowed her. “Does it have real food too? Or just sugary drinks?”

“Oh, they have burgers, and pizza, and fries, and—”

Nott’s mouth threatened to split her face in two. This was happiness, in goblin form.

Caleb ruffled her hair. “Let’s do it. I am starving just thinking about it.”

— — —

Essek had only just rolled up his sleeves and wiped the condensation from his brow when the phone rang.

He glanced back, and his eyes lost their glow. The faint sensation of coiling wind faded from the interior of the room. About half a dozen various cleaning implements clattered to the floor.

Annoyed, he waved a hand and floated his phone over. Then he scowled.

“Can it wait? I am in the middle of something.”

“Well, if it is something more pressing than the greatest Dunamantic breakthrough of this century—”

“Yes, yes, alright,” he responded testily. “What is it?”

“I believe you will want to see this in person.” This voice was a smooth baritone, lightly accented by something airy, and old. “Besides, it is quite difficult to make progress without our resident expert—”

Part of Essek wrinkled his nose. The other part, a part that he would not readily acknowledge, nor likely even recognize, puffed out its chest.

“I…have a prior engagement tonight,” he said, but was already beginning to itch for the study. His mother once said that knowledge was a disease, and right now he could hardly disagree. “How much time will this take?”

“I believe that is up to you, is it not? It is your artifact—”

“I am glad you remember.”

Silence followed, and Essek basked in the little victory. He floated his coat across the room.

“Give me a moment to get ready and write a message,” he relented. “I will be there soon.”

He could practically hear the pleased smile without seeing it. “Excellent. I await your arrival.”

Click.

He sighed again. Of course, he wanted to chalk this up to…to his associate being overly nosy and much too eager to flex his authority, but the fact of the matter was that he very rarely bothered with Essek unless it was important. Which, naturally, had its own problems, but at least it let Essek keep to his own schedule.

It was just a shame that he would have to miss the arrival of his new tenant. He hoped it wouldn’t set a bad first impression—well, second impression, technically. The first one…already it had been two missed phone calls and a stiff conversation.

He found a piece of paper and uncapped a pen.

Then again, he wasn’t here to make a friend, was he? Of course not. He was just being self-sufficient.

Mr. Widogast, he wrote. Unfortunately, I have been called away for an emergency at work…

— — —

And it was only about twenty minutes later, as he let himself into the Marquis’s guesthouse, that he realized he should probably text his tenant the house code.

— — —

“Maybe we should’ve brought him something too,” said Nott, leaning on the side of the car, watching Jester and Caleb lift one last box. An orange tabby cat wound between her legs.

“Scheisse, I did not think of that,” Caleb blinked. “Er…do you think it is too late to visit a store?”

“A store?” Jester shook her head. “What are you going to get him, a bag of chips?”

“Well, er, no, but…perhaps an ice cream…”

He leaned against the stack of boxes and caught his breath. When he looked back up, there was pity in their eyes.

“Caleb,” said Nott, “that’s a terrible gift.”

“What? I…really? I thought…don’t people like them?”

Jester reached across his luggage and gave him a pat.

“I got an extra slice of blueberry cheesecake,” she said. “I was going to save it for later, but…I think you should give that to him.”

“Oh, Jester, I cannot—”

“Do it,” she insisted. “If you’re not going to let me meet him, then at least I want to help you make a good impression.”

“Apparently, he is not even home right now.” Caleb gave his phone a gentle shake. “He texted me earlier with the door code and an apology. So unfortunately, you would not be able to see him even if you wanted to.”

“Part of the trap—”

“It is not a trap—”

“Oh, but if he’s not home,” Nott began, and Caleb was instantly worried from her tone, “doesn’t that mean…doesn’t that mean we could go inside? And…take a look around?”

“Nott—”

“Oh, oh! But what if it’s a trick!” Jester gasped. “What if it’s a test? To see what Caleb’s like?”

“Caleb is great at tests,” Nott said. “I’m sure he’ll do fine.”

“I can only do fine if you two cooperate,” he rubbed his face. “Please, if I do end up staying here long term, I am sure that there will be plenty of opportunities for you to snoop.”

“Not snoop,” Nott corrected. “Scope him out.”

“Ja, exactly that. Now…” Caleb glanced at his friends, then looked over his shoulder at the entrance to the apartment complex. It was in a much nicer area of Nicodranas, much nicer than he particularly was used to, though quite a distance from the coast. Tall oak trees draped over the streets, boughs draped in a fine trailing moss, branches weaving modest shade from the sky. Coral ivy climbed up the side of the building, and from down on street level, looking up, Caleb could count a total of six floors.

A few of the windows were open, letting in the cool summer breeze.

Home, Caleb thought. A home, anyway. For now.

He gave Nott and Jester a smile.

“Thank you for helping me move, today. I promise I will send you pictures of the inside.”

“Good!” said Nott. “It’s the least we deserve.”

“And don’t forget the cake,” Jester added. “Are you sure you’ll be alright lifting everything by yourself?”

He held up a hand, and waggled his fingers.

“I think I can find a way to manage. Though I must say, it will not be nearly as fun without you two.”

— — —

And now, it was well after sunset.

Caleb sat in a bedroom that was three times bigger than his last one. Neater, too.

This Mr. Thelyss must do very well for himself, to afford such a home. After lugging his belongings into the elevator and congratulating Schmidt on a job well done, Caleb had ridden up four floors and punched in the password and had been truly surprised at the size of this housing unit. Thelyss had a full kitchen, complete with bar stools and a counter, and even a small sitting room with a couch and TV. There was a bathroom, with a tub, and Caleb noted the two other doors that were off limits—bedroom and study. There was a section of the sitting room, by the large bay windows, where space for “cat things” had been set aside, and a sliding door beside that area led to a modest balcony. All of the décor was minimal, with only a few paintings adorning the walls, depicting landscapes of some place that Caleb could not recognize. Aside from that, the only concession to personality was a bookshelf stacked to virtually spilling with tomes and novels and hardbound texts. To his surprise, he’d also found he could not read a majority of this writing, though not for trying.

There had also been a note on the counter. He could read this one. And after he did, he smiled faintly, then wandered into his bedroom, put his things away, and got his cat settled, as instructed.

Then he gently placed a single slice of blueberry cheesecake next to the note, taking care to make sure that none of the corners got jostled.

He picked up a pen. He wrote:

Mr. Thelyss—

I once again thank you for your flexibility. Though I similarly am saddened that we cannot yet meet face-to-face, you have a beautiful home that I will do my utmost part to maintain. Additionally, please accept this gift as a small housewarming token.

Also, Frumpkin is a very well-behaved cat. If you see him when you wake up tomorrow, feel free to give him many pats.

Looking forward to speaking with you, Caleb Widogast.

He read through a note a few more times to make sure that he was covering everything of importance.

And, when that was settled, he retreated to his bedroom, and flicked off the lights.

He lay in bed for a few minutes, gently stroking his cat.

“Well, Frumpkin. Here we are. Home sweet home. For now.”

Frumpkin meowed back.

“Well-said. Now, we should probably get some rest, eh?”

He shifted around, getting comfortable, and eventually closing his eyes. How lucky he was to find a place like this, he marveled as he began drifting off to sleep. With such comfortable sheets, as well.

And all that was left was to finally meet this Essek Thelyss.

On his chest, Frumpkin began to purr.

And to hope that they’d both get along.

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