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Lithian stirred in his sleep.

Mind phasing into and out of a feverish dreamstate, he picked up on snippets of conversation — unfamiliar voices, and movement — but his delirium-addled brain did not differentiate at first between said occurrences and the twisting phantoms of his subconscious imagination. He imagined he was being eaten, again and again, then freezing to death, body encased in ice and lost at sea. He imagined he was five-years-old, aloft in his father’s arms and then tucked into the hot confines of his sheets and blankets, buried beneath them like a tiny body in a tomb as yet another healer tinkered at his bedside.

By the time he began to pull closer into full-consciousness, it was full night.

Lithian blinked, groggily. Once, twice, his lashes raised and dipped, pushing the fog out of his eyes and attempting to focus on the scene around him. He smelled the fire before he heard it, heard it before he registered its warmth, and felt its warmth seeping into his side through his clothes before he finally focused his vision enough to see its light dancing along the cave walls. Cave walls.

Lithian breathed out, pulse stuttering to a new, semi-panicked pace as his mind began to wake up, flooding him with questions: ‘Where am I? What am I doing here? How did I get here? Who built the fire? Are they still here? Do they mean me harm? Have I been rescued? Or am I going to be eaten alive? Did—?’ Lithian slammed down on his thought process, squeezing his eyes back shut and focusing again on his breathing, taking in what he knew.

He’d been lost. He’d gone out to explore with those boys — Pravis, Liranel, Osrith — and gotten lost during their game. He’d been attacked. He’d heard people in the snow and ran out towards them…

People in the snow. Lithian registered the soft shuffle of movement, and then voices. Were these the same people? Had they found him after all? Surely, since he was alive, warm and — from the feel of things — at least partially tended to where his wounds were concerned, they couldn’t mean him that much harm.

When he turned his head, though, opening his mouth to get their attention, Lithian’s words froze in his throat, a fresh kind of panic gathering in his chest. Oblivionites. They were oblivionites. What were oblivionites doing—? Then, he blinked again, expression pinching as he took over the details on the younger one. Not an oblivionite. He had horns — dovaa horns — so he must be a hybrid?

Lithian’s eyes flicked from the adult to the child. Were they family, perhaps? Banished to the wastes of Aisko to keep themselves safe? But what, then, were they doing taking him in? Ysette would preach that all oblivionites were dangerous to their core and he ought to have been terrified, but though there was a swift stutter of concern in his chest at the identity of his keepers, Lithian couldn’t say he felt as frightened as he likely should have.

They had saved his life, hadn’t they? And he’d never been anywhere near this close to the race before personally.

Lithian flushed, startled first by how quickly the hybrid boy — Casseth, the man had called him — had picked up on his movements, and then more still when the grown oblivionite touched his forehead. Tense, but given no reason yet to be truly frightened, Lithian managed a nod and pushed himself up, first onto his elbows and then to a full sit. At least the movement didn’t make him dizzy, a part of him thought, and his eyes flicked between the two other persons in the cave, wide with curiosity.

“Who—? Where—? I—” Lithian’s cheeks burned darker still, nerves and uncertainty making it difficult to focus on one train of thought at once, and he reached up, rubbing his fingers over one of his horns as he pulled his knees up, towards his chest. “Are you going to hurt me…? I’ll cooperate, I promise. I didn’t mean to be out this far, I know I shouldn’t have — if I’m in your territory I didn’t mean to be, but-but if you hurt me, my family…”

He bit his lip, holding back his next words. Perhaps better to let them answer before getting himself into trouble. His eyes flicked instinctively back towards the hybrid boy. Casseth, he reminded himself, if that had indeed been his name. He looked to be close to his age, but nothing like any of the children Lithian had ever met in person. After wondering, briefly, if oblivionite skin had the same texture or different from a dovaa’s, Lithian immediately dropped his eyes and shut them.

One train of thought at a time.

Lithian cringed a bit when the older oblivionite cut the boy off, but kept quiet, listening and watching carefully — not wanting to provoke any unnecessary reactions — and his posture relaxed a fraction when the man said they wouldn’t hurt him. Though, if Ysette’s take on oblivionites was accurate, nothing that came from the man’s mouth could be trusted. Lithian wanted to believe he was safe, however, so he held tight, waiting until the man finished before answering.

“I was…I wasn’t alone, at first. I was with some boys, friends…sort of. I’m on Aisko with a group of instructors and other students, all adepts. We were…I wasn’t supposed to go out far, but my…friends…” He frowned at the use of the word, “…thought it would be fun. We were playing a game, but they left me behind, and I got lost, and when the wind picked up, I couldn’t figure out what direction I’d come from or see tracks and then dragons attacked me and I, I fought, and then I ran, and I hid…”

Lithian winced, his calf throbbing briefly at the mention of his encounter with the aiskalas as though encouraged to act up simply on thinking of the event. Before thinking twice about it, he pushed his now nearly-dry cloak back, away from his side to reveal the stoppered flasks at his waist. Then, pausing as he considered his company, Lithian stopped with his fingers to the corks and glanced up again.

“Someone will surely come looking for me…soon…” With a glance out towards the mouth of the cave, the sounds of the bitter wind outside easily audible and fierce, even from their protected niche, Lithian winced, hesitating. “Maybe. If any of my friends make it back and report me missing.” Lithian’s eyes caught once on the hybrid boy before darting down to his own fingers, still on the flasks at his waist. “May I use my magic? I feel well enough to and promise I’ll only see to my leg — it’s hurting.” He nibbled at his bottom lip, tongue flicking briefly over it before he let it free again. “And…thank you, for taking me in.” He lifted his gaze, glancing once to the man and then pausing again on the boy, lingering there as he finished his statement, voice quiet. “You probably saved my life.”

Lithian blinked, watching carefully as the grown oblivionite packed and left. While the man didn’t seem to mean him harm, he certainly reacted to him with far more wariness than the hybrid boy, and the boy’s curiosity peaked Lithian’s own, making him eager to speak up more. Caution held his tongue, however, and he waited, biding his time until the grown pureblood had left before snagging the opportunity to speak freely. When the oblivionite’s shape disappeared with his pack and weapons into the snow, his tail the last thing visible before he was out of sight entirely, something in Lithian relaxed, and he ventured his first smile of the evening, glancing immediately back over to the boy.

“They weren’t very nice,” Lithian said, answering his previous line of inquiry first. “But I don’t think they meant to leave me alone when the storm started to come in.” He sat up a bit, unstoppering one of his flasks and guiding out a small cord of water. Not much, since he rarely needed much to ground minor healing spells.

“I’m Lithian,” he said, guiding the focus of his magic around with the water and down to the pain in his calf. It sank in readily, glowing white-blue with his energy and then petering out as it delved into the wound itself. The oblivionite had done a fair job of cleaning and tending to it, which made the strain on his magic smaller. “And you’re Casseth?” he guessed. “I’ve never met a hyb—”

He flushed, tucking his water back away and stoppering off his flask.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before. Is the…oblivionite your family?”

Lithian’s flush darkened at Casseth’s defensive reaction, and he opened his mouth, but faltered when the last question came out. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Strange?” he parotted. “Why?” He blinked, remembering Liranel’s comments from just earlier that day and then, honestly, from more than just him in the years before that. His lips tightened, shoulders sinking. “I am a boy, you know. Do I really look that much like—?”

He bit his lip, cutting himself off and curling in on himself.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, anyway,” he murmured. “I’ve just never met a hybrid before.” He glanced over, hesitant as he eyed the other boy. “You seem nice enough, though.” Thinking that it might well be better to change the subject, though, Lithian considered how interested Casseth had seemed in magic and blurted, “It’s easy enough, you know. Getting used to your clan, once you start to practice. Though…well, I was fairly awful at first. I’m still not particularly good at a lot of it, but…” He tilted his head. “Have you thought at all about what you might choose?”

At least, he figured, if nothing else it was a choice they’d had in common.

Lithian blinked, zeroing in on the words ‘a mixture of all’ before Casseth cut himself off. Could he really be a mix of all three races? Only dovaa and oblivionite were obvious so far, but perhaps his orderite blood had yet to manifest itself. Though the boy didn’t seem fully convinced he was male — for some reason — Lithian didn’t impress the point since Casseth didn’t, and eagerly moved on to the subject of clans, nodding when the other boy asked.

“I am. And I don’t blame you about the snow.” Lithian pulled his legs a fraction closer to his chest as he said it, tugging absently at a loose lock of hair. “I don’t mind the snow really, it just…never gets even close to this cold on the Plane. I’m not used to it. And I don’t think I could stand it for terribly long. I’ve…always known I wanted to be a healer, though,” Lith said, returning to the subject at hand. “Healers are the reason I’m here today, so I think I owe the world that much.” He glanced up, remembering the way Casseth had growled when the man — his father, Lith reminded himself — had specified that he use only healing magic. “It’s not good just for healing, though,” he said, a grin itching at the corner of his lips.

The desire to show off tugged at him. His instinct to obey the rules, though, particularly those of the adult who’d just saved his life, held his tongue for the moment. All the same, a part of Lithian — something beyond what he could even explain to himself in that moment — desperately wanted Casseth to like him, and if demonstrating his magic could earn that, he itched to do just that.

Lithian’s face lit up at the other boy’s enthusiasm, a strange, bubbling warmth gathering in his chest due neither to the fire nor his magic. He liked simply watching Casseth talk, and the degree to which he got animated about topics that interested him made Lith bite back a grin, eyes dancing with amusement.

When Casseth leaned forward, expression bright with curiosity as he asked Lithian to practice his clan magic, Lithian felt his pulse stutter in his throat. Not fear, for once, but a nervous, giddy excitement. He wanted Casseth to notice him, to remember him, and though it felt a bit ridiculous to be so sure of the sentiment already, Lithian knew he couldn’t refuse the boy. Thus, after only a cursory glance in the direction of the cave’s entrance, Lithian nodded, and stood.

His leg felt far better, he noted — grateful that it wouldn’t likely be interfering with his stances much — and while he’d worn his magic thin to the point of exhaustion earlier, his grip on it felt tighter now, after his rest. He felt his cheeks heat as he plucked the cork stoppers out of the flasks at his waist and tucked them in the small pouch to the side of the glass containers, well aware that Casseth’s eyes were following him.

Why now, of all times, his nerves chose to act up simply because he had an audience, Lithian couldn’t begin to guess. It had never bothered him before — not really — not with his tutors, brothers, sisters, parents, or even Araceli. But then again, he supposed, he’d never particularly cared to impress anyone before. The oddity of that thought lingered briefly in his mind, but he ushered it away before it became a permanent fixture, turning his focus instead to deciding what to show Casseth.

Something showy, he thought.

When he dipped into an easy bow stance, though, one leg bent and the the other straight as he drew out the water from his flasks in two ribbons of liquid, he frowned, puzzled over what of the things he could do was ‘showy’. Water was a subtle element, generally. It bent itself to its purpose, adapted, and transformed as necessary.

Casseth clearly seemed impressed by power, volume, and spontaneity, and — thinking on how much mass he’d been able to shift around when facing off against peisio dragons — Lithian briefly wished for a readily available lake or ocean. More opportunity for embarrassment, perhaps, but also the tools to leave a lasting impression.

He shifted his stance regardless, twisting and dipping just enough to draw the water around: like a glimmering, transparent blue snake as it orbited first Lithian, then Casseth as Lith guided it around.

“Most people underestimate water, I think,” Lith said, making a loose show of turning his liquid ribbons in circles, each chasing the other like the dual ends of the fire sticks gypsy dancers handled. “It can be gentle, flow like a brook, or trickle down like rain. But it can also…” Lithian pinched and corkscrewed his fingers, weaving the two ribbons together into a single whip-like cord before shifting his stance sharply, “…slice…” He snapped the whip of water with a resounding crack against the far cave wall, “…cut…” He swept his weight low, lashing low as he sank into a crouch and cutting a sharp line in the frigid outside snow with his warmed water. “And…”

He rose up again, rocking his stance, in a push-pull motion, palms open and face heating as he prayed this worked. Bit by bit though, it seemed to — a small amount of slushing pulling in at first when he rocked, then more — and after several ‘waves’ back and forth, Lithian was working with a fairly massive, only-partially-melted orb of ice-water. He drew it up and in, the body of it hovering at about shoulder-height for him, though in total, it likely weighed close to as much as he did. When he had it close, his cheeks burned brighter, and his eyes flicked to Casseth, second-guessing the last part of his plan.

“Crash,” he said. “Though…I probably shouldn’t actually attempt even a small wave in here. I wouldn’t want to put out our fire, and if your dad saw me…” Lithian winced at the thought and stretched his palms up instead, guiding the massive orb of water in a weighted, circular motion around him — first once vertically at his side, then in a horizontal loop around his waist. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

‘Or myself killed,’ Lithian’s brain added unhelpfully, unspoken.