Immovable Objects (Honeymoon Suite Sequel)

Damien

Month 3, Day 26, Friday 7:15pm

It was in the exhilarating freedom of being post-final-exam that Damien and his friends toured the exhibition’s final day, just like he used to when he was little. Even Sebastien, often so critical and haughty, seemed to be impressed by some of the displays. Damien plied him with food from every stand they passed, loving the expressions of delight and surprise Sebastien made when he thought no one was looking. It was obvious that Sebastien hadn’t been allowed to eat this kind of frivolous food growing up.

The eyes of both students and visitors seemed drawn to their group, which was only natural considering the amount of charisma, power, and beauty they collectively possessed. Thankfully, only a few outsiders were bold and foolish enough to bother them, and the coppers on duty were quick to threaten off any reporters that tried to approach Damien or his friends.

After Titus heard what happened during the Defensive Magic exam, he had sent a frantic letter by emergency runner, insisting that he would come pick Damien up personally. Damien had written back until his fingers ached, explaining the big misunderstanding. Titus surely already knew the situation from reports, but sometimes he didn’t feel reassured until Damien had persuaded him directly.

But something good had come out of the whole situation, because as Damien was writing his response, he had the wonderful idea to ask if Sebastien could stay at Westbay Manor over the break. Their father was gone again, so it would be perfect. Privately, he hoped they could even complete some small missions for the secret order together.

Damien couldn’t wait to surprise Sebastien with the offer. He kept bouncing on his toes, looking around for a hint of his brother. When was Titus going to finally arrive?

But then Sebastien ran off somewhere, and the others got pulled away by different friends or got tired and decided to head home for the break before the day ended, and Damien found it wasn’t as much fun without them.

As Damien wandered back toward the dorms with the vague idea of packing up the rest of his luggage, a woman wearing the Gilbrathan copper uniform hurried up to him, slightly out of breath. “Mr. Westbay?” She bowed. “Copper Alma reporting. Commander Westbay is here and would like to speak to you.”

Damien brightened. “Oh? Where is he?”

“He is appreciating the view. I will lead you to him,” the woman said, already walking off with long strides that looked a little comical with her short legs.

“I wish he would have come yesterday,” Damien said as he hurried to follow her. “Is he so busy that he can’t even come for the events I’m in? Our Defensive Magic exhibition was amazing. I was in charge of stealth, scouting, and infiltration. Rhett Moncrieffe was offense. And Sebastien Siverling was our general utility and ‘wildcard’ member.” Damien sniggered, because that was such an apt description. “Sebastien had the idea to travel over the rooftops instead of the streets below. Rhett was scared, but I’m not bothered by heights at all. Did you know Titus took me gryphon-riding when I was only five? Anyway, we saved and escorted multiple other teams to the safe point. I kept us from being discovered probably a dozen times.”

He gauged that her reaction was sufficiently impressed—she was staring at him seriously—and continued. “My heart was pounding so hard, and in the end I really thought we weren’t going to make it. We got hit by an enemy attack and blasted across the road, all rolled around like, like—dice in a jar! I even lost my Conduit. But then Sebastien started casting a shield while lying on the ground, moving it around in the air to intercept the attacks aimed at both of us. It’s only been one term, but it seems like he’s already halfway to being a free-caster, can you believe that?”

“It’s very impressive,” Alma said.

“Yes, I know! And then there was this whole uproar because people thought Sebastien was casting without his Conduit, but apparently he was casting through his leg. He was sitting on my Conduit. Don’t you think that’s amazing? And then we fought back while retreating. We definitely would have made if—if not for Fekten.” Damien looked away with a sneer and “tch!” They were approaching the Flats, and the trees were growing sparser.

“I am sorry to have missed it. Surely you will get contribution points for your performance. Is Sebastien—I mean Mr. Siverling—is he alright?”

“He’s fine. He doesn’t even have Will-strain.”

“And…other than that? Is he doing alright…emotionally?”

Damien slowed, staring at her.

She realized he had stopped following and turned to him. Her lips rubbed together, and her fingers pressed awkwardly against the sides of her legs. “Where is he going to be staying over the break?”

Damien’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to invite him to stay with us. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” She bowed again, then resumed leading him toward the Flats.

Damien hurried to catch up, walking slightly ahead so that he could see her face. She tried to give him a smile, but it was strained. A copper, working for Titus, failing to conceal her concern for Sebastien’s well-being. Alma must know something, Damien easily deduced. “Did something happen?” When she didn’t respond immediately, his sense of foreboding grew. “Is Sebastien in danger?” He hesitated, then added, “Or in trouble? Does he need help?”

Alma slowed, her smile growing more genuine but sad. “You’re a good friend.”

Damien reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her again. “If you know something, tell me.”

“Well, there is something. A…delicate matter. I think it’s what this visit it about. Commander Westbay wanted to speak with Mr. Siverling, but we haven’t been able to find him. In my opinion, it would be best if he did spend the break with you, or if not that, then in the dorms.”

There was only one reason Damien could think of that Sebastien should specifically avoid going back to Dryden Manor. “Did something happen to Lord Dryden?”

Alma gave a short, derisive laugh. “If only!” A spark of malice flared behind her eyes.

Well, that was a hint if Damien had ever heard one. “What did Dryden do?” he asked, his voice sinking low.

“Your brother knows more than I do. I’ve only been on the peripheral of his investigation…”

“Tell me,” Damien said, his tone self-assured without being demanding, as if he had no doubts she would comply. He’d often seen Ana use this same unearned confidence to boss people into doing things they should have protested against.

Copper Alma looked around, then stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I assume you’re aware that Mr. Siverling comes from a…less affluent background than yourself?”

Damien had deduced as much from all the little clues Sebastien let slip. Despite his innate noble manner and stylish clothing, Sebastien acted like every small opportunity was priceless, something to be grasped and never released. That, of course, and the lack of sufficient outfits, personal items, and a proper Conduit. When others talked about presents they’d received, trips they’d gone on with their families, or even things they wanted, Sebastien always remained silent.

Copper Alma turned and hurried off again, and Damien followed, walking close enough that he could hear her murmurs as they approached the base of the fake white cliffs the professors had raised from the Flats.

“How do you think he got the funds to attend the University?” she asked.

Damien had speculated that Sebastien’s family scraped together all of their resources. But no, Sebastien had mentioned to Alec that he had no family left. Perhaps he had sold off all his family’s belongings when the last of them died. Alternatively, Professor Lacer could have sponsored him. But based on the preceding conversation, Damien took a guess. “Oliver Dryden sponsored him?” It made sense, after all. Sebastien visited there often, sometimes even staying the night, and had mentioned previously that he had “business” with the man.

“Sponsored,” Alma repeatedly wryly. “That’s one way to put it. Except Dryden didn’t send the money to the University. He paid Sebastien directly.”

Damien waited silently for her to continue, something inside his chest tightening. He really wished she would stop hinting and just get to the point.

She was quiet as they approached a nondescript door in the side of the white stone wall. Looking around, she opened the door for him, then finally continued in a low voice. “To put it succinctly, I have strong reason to believe Dryden has some sort of sexual fixation on Mr. Siverling. I personally caught him with a homeless prostitute that looked disturbingly similar. Commander Westbay confronted and questioned him a few days ago, in private. All I know for sure is that Dryden denied that the prostitute was Sebastien, but I think the implications are obvious. Dryden has money, power, and influence. It may not mean much here, but he’s technically a minor Lord. Mr. Siverling has…nothing. If he does have family, obviously he can’t rely on them for help. They might even be in favor of this arrangement.”

Damien’s eyelids fluttered, and maybe he lost some time to a blackout, because suddenly they were climbing a stone staircase.

As they reached the top, copper Alma turned and murmured, “Commander Westbay hasn’t shared whatever else he learned, but ever since, he’s been more grim than usual.” She opened the door at the top of the staircase, revealing a ledge of white stone.

Titus waited there at the edge of the wall, looking out over the miniature imitation of Gilbratha that had been built atop a small section of the original white cliffs. It only illustrated how large Gilbratha truly was. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he didn’t turn as Damien stepped up beside him.

This high up, they could look out over the exam arena and just barely see beyond the edge of the real white cliffs to Gilbratha below.

“Do you know how long something like this would have taken to create without magic?” Titus asked.

Damien stared at him silently. Titus could be so dramatic sometimes, acting like he was the villain in a theatrical performance, setting the stage and making cryptic comments instead of getting to the point. And Sebastien said Damien was dramatic. Hah!

“Someone who has never cast a spell before may have a Will of about ten thaums, enough to lift a cabbage at the standard speed of one meter per second. A strong man can lift a stone weighing two hundred pounds. With levers and pulleys, that may become two thousand pounds. But that takes time, coordination, and equipment. A single young Master-level thaumaturge with a capacity of only one thousand two hundred thaums can lift that same two thousand pounds at the sedate pace of thirteen centimeters a second. This might seem less efficient, until you remember that it requires only materials to draw a spell array and a fire, and can be done in almost any environment. By the end of that thaumaturge’s life, they may do the job of several groups of normal men, easily moving eight thousand pounds at speed or raising an entire building centimeter by centimeter.”

Titus waved to the mock city beneath them. “Consider, also, that the thaumaturge may mold these buildings directly from the stone with no need for shovels, chisels, or support structures. The thaumaturge may reinforce the very material they work with, stabilizing the stone against breakage or collapse. The thaumaturge may add wards and enchantments to their structures, giving them special desirable properties. In the long term, a commoner will never match them, especially as the powerful thaumaturge’s lifespan lengthens.

“That is why some people have proposed increasing the number of trained thaumaturges through widespread Crown sponsorships or changes to the lending laws, with those who perform well being allowed to continue from Apprentice to Journeyman, or even Master. But they don’t understand something critical.”

Titus turned to Damien, the emotion behind his eyes too complex for Damien to decipher. “There is not enough for everyone. Not enough magical resources, not enough money, not enough…power. For one to rise, someone else must fall.”

Damien huffed. “If you are trying to make a point, could you accelerate toward it? This cryptic monologue just feels like you’re speaking to hear your own voice.”

Titus frowned at him. “I see you’re on edge today.”

“That Alma woman mentioned you had something to discuss about Sebastien.”

“Ah.” Titus nodded slowly. “Your friend Sebastien Siverling had a hard life before you knew him.”

“I know.”

“Those struggles are probably what fed his ambition. But because of those experiences, he’s learned to make the kind of decisions you might never think of, that you cannot relate to. He has learned that there are different sources of value besides money, magic, or even land—the power of charisma and the right connections.”

Damien tilted his head to the side, confounded. “What? That is essentially the opposite of Sebastien’s personality. Tell me about Oliver Dryden. Is Sebastien being…abused? Where is his family in all this?”

Titus let out a humorless laugh. “I see copper Alma has been gossiping more than is appropriate.” After a pause to consider, he explained. “According to what I have been able to dig up, Mr. Siverling is your typical storybook destitute orphan. The funds to attend the University came from Oliver Dryden. The man admitted as much. He also admitted that he was convinced to do this because he has romantic feelings for Siverling. His interest is obvious, even to an outsider such as myself.” Titus curled his lip with disgust. “Siverling is no doubt aware of them as well, and I believe he willingly exploits the situation.”

Damien took a half step back as if Titus had struck him. “What do you mean, Sebastien ‘exploits the situation?’ Shouldn’t you be saying Oliver Dryden is trying to use him? To make him indebted and trap him so Sebastien feels like he doesn’t have any choice but to pay Dryden back the way he wants?” Damien looked away as the full weight of the implications hit him. “And Sebastien’s so proud, of course he couldn’t tell anyone or ask for help. Every time he goes there to visit, has Dryden been forcing Sebastien…?”

Titus interrupted his thoughts before they could spiral further out of control, waving his hand in a negating motion at Damien. “No, no. As far as I can tell, there isn’t any physical relationship between them. But Sebastien isn’t as innocent as you seem to believe. He’s been stringing Dryden along, deepening Dryden’s emotional attachment with no plans to enter into an actual relationship. You have a kind heart, Damien, but trust me when I say there’s no need to worry about Siverling.”

Damien lifted trembling fingers to his lips. “How can you say that,” he said past his cold fingertips.

Titus raised an eyebrow. “Do you know that Siverling admitted to visiting a high-class brothel? It does make one wonder, if he didn’t have the coin to attend the University, how is it that he would have the coin to purchase such expensive services? Of course, if he wasn’t there to spend coin, but to make coin…” Titus searched Damien’s expression, almost as if he suspected Damien of something.

“That’s ridiculous!” Damien insisted.

“Ridiculous? Oh, maybe you think that if he needed more coin that badly, why not go to Dryden again? But Siverling knows not to put all his eggs in one basket. And he knows the power of seeming aloof, untouchable, unobtainable. A certain type of person only values something as long as they cannot have it.”

There was so much wrong with all this, Damien didn’t know where to begin arguing. “Where are you getting any of this? Have you been listening to some weird, malicious gossip? Sebastien is nothing like that. He’s honorable, and even though he can be really rude when you first meet him he’s secretly kind and loyal. He—he cares about doing the right thing and making the world a better place. And really, he could get money a lot of easier ways!” Damien threw up his hands in the air, turning his back on Titus before immediately spinning around to face him again, pointing his finger accusingly. “Professor Lacer would probably sponsor him. Or hells, if he needed gold he could just ask me or Ana!” But suddenly Damien remembered that Ana mentioned doing a favor for Sebastien, “which was really more of a favor for Lord Dryden.” She hadn’t given Damien any details, but now he wondered if Sebastien did indeed ask for help. Maybe he was trying to find a way to repay Dryden so that the man no longer held any debt over his head and couldn’t continue pressuring Sebastien with it.

Titus shook his head. “Maybe Siverling has options now, but he didn’t at first. And the fact that he has so many powerful, affluent people wrapped tightly enough around his fingers that they would be willing to toss gold his way without any qualms just furthers my position!” He wagged his index finger right back at Damien. “Do you think that’s by coincidence? How, exactly, does a poor commoner gain the attention and friendship of so many perfectly placed people? Hells, even the newspapers are singing his praises! To be sure, he is magically talented enough to entice Thaddeus Lacer’s attention, but do you think your friendship with him is a coincidence? He—”

“Why are you so prejudiced against him? You’ve decided the conclusion you want before you started gathering the evidence! Everything you’re saying is totally one-sided!”

Titus crossed his arms. “No. I started gathering evidence when a certain hotel employee tried to blackmail the Family with your scandalous relationship with the icon of the hour. One room for two young men. You drew some attention, Damien. So I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to be hurt. Siverling knew just how to make you fixate on him—by being rude and acting superior, disrespecting you in a way no one else would dare to. The opposite of love is not hate, Damien, it is indifference.”

Damien remained silent this time, his fists clenched.

Maybe Titus thought his argument had hit a nerve, because he continued. “I’m not saying Sebastien is evil. He’s intelligent and talented. Maybe even a genius like you’re always bragging about. But when you grow up with nothing, knowing you deserve better, desperation can lead you to look for new avenues to improve your life. There’s nothing…disgraceful about that. But it is dangerous. I want you to understand the kind of person you’re dealing with. You’ve been sheltered, Damien. You don’t understand the lengths some people can go to to achieve their goals. Even if… Even if Sebastien does care for you in his own way, that doesn’t mean he won’t use you, hurt you, and betray you. Those who have nothing cultivate their greed instead.”

Damien was still silent, but now he was thinking about Sebastien’s nightmares and the kind of experiences that might have caused such lingering damage. Sebastien never talked about them, never even hinted at their contents.

Titus’s gaze grew softer, and he stepped closer, grazing his fingertips down Damien’s arm. He was still the taller of the two, and Damien realized that Titus still thought of him as a child, though he was past the age of majority. Perhaps he would always feel that way, no matter how old Damien grew. Titus had to take over the responsibility of raising Damien after their mother died, what with their father being…himself.

“I have been doing my research,” Titus said. “I asked around about Siverling. Would you disagree with me that his defining quality is his ambition?”

“Sebastien Siverling will never be content with mediocrity,” Damien admitted, his voice cracking. He swallowed, and when he continued, his voice was low and firm. “But you’ve misunderstood something important about him. His most defining quality isn’t ambition. It’s pride.”

Titus frowned, tilting his head to the side.

One corner of Damien’s mouth quirked up, the smirk filled with ire. “His pride drives him not only to make himself the best he can possibly be, to meet impossible standards that most people would find unreasonable, but also to work toward aspirations bigger than himself, to take on responsibilities he finds meaningful and worthy.”

Titus opened his mouth to speak, but Damien held up a hand. “No. Stop. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but—”

“I’m trying to protect you, Damien!” Titus rubbed the bridge of his nose before turning his back on Damien.

Damien scoffed. “Protect me from what? From your own imagination! I know Sebastien, Titus.”

Titus turned to face him again. “Do you? Do you really?”

Damien hesitated, but before Titus could pounce on the opportunity like the rabid dog he was acting like, Damien spoke. “Maybe I don’t know every detail about his childhood or the struggles he’s going through, but I don’t need those things to understand him. Or to be his friend. Sebastien will share his secrets when he’s ready.”

“I will not allow you to place yourself in danger like this. I heard you were caught up in a possible Aberrant event during the test yesterday, because of him!”

“You won’t allow me? What are you going to do?” The angry words spilled out before Damien had thought them through. As they hung in the air, he forced himself to calm. Acting outwardly emotional wouldn’t fix anything, just like it never fixed anything with Father. Perhaps Titus would try to do something when he couldn’t get Damien to listen to him. Damien smoothed back his hair, even though it was impossible to keep in place against the wind. The familiar movement was more a calming mechanism than anything else. He forced a small smile to his face. “Stop, Titus. I’m telling you to stop,” he said, his voice weary. “Are you really worried about me, or do you simply hate the idea that I might learn to grow in a different direction than you and Father planned? That I might find someone else who actually supports me?”

“Me and Father? Damien—”

Damien spoke over him. “Let go of your baseless vendetta, Titus. Because I am warning you. If you dare to harm Sebastien, I will not stand idle. I may not be as competent as you, and Father certainly doesn’t trust me with the authority of our Family, but that doesn’t mean I am without recourse.” It was a bluff. Damien really didn’t have anything he could threaten Titus with. But surely, if Sebastien were in need, the secret organization they were both members of would step in?

A strange expression fell across Titus’s face. “You too?” he murmured.

Damien’s smile grew larger, though the tension and anger remained beneath the surface. “Is it impossible for you to entertain the possibility that you might be wrong about all of this? Do you think me so incompetent that I cannot judge my best friend’s personality and goals correctly? Please, Titus.”

Titus deflated. “Alright. I understand there’s no convincing you. I had no plans to harm Mr. Siverling. I only wanted to warn you.”

Damien heard the unspoken, “And threaten Sebastien a bit.” He narrowed his eyes. “You cannot protect me, Titus. No one can really protect anyone else. I beg you, trust me to live my own life and learn my own lessons. You are wrong, Titus. I am the one who has spent months in Sebastien’s company. If you want me to trust you, perhaps you should try placing yourself in a position to trust me.”

Titus remained silent for a moment, turning to look out over the candy-bright sunset rays streaking the western sky. “Okay. Perhaps… Perhaps I really was wrong. Everyone around me seems to think so. If Sebastien is not the manipulative grifter I suspected, then he must truly shine with some special inner light, to engender such loyalty in those close to him.”

Damien’s eyes stung, dry from the wind, and he blinked and looked away. “Thank you,” he said, as sincerely as Titus had conceded.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

Damien blinked more rapidly. The wind was strong. “I know. I love you, too.”

“Good. I probably don’t tell you often enough. Mom would have done a better job.” Titus turned to Damien wistfully. “Make sure you remember that how I feel about you will never change. If things go wrong and you need help, you can come to me.” He laughed. “I won’t even say I told you so.”

Damien rolled his eyes. “Okay, sure.”

“I won’t accost Mr. Siverling today. But you’ll have to bring him for dinner sometime so I can meet him properly.”

Damien cringed. “You won’t make it weird though, right?”

Titus grinned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Before Damien could duck away, he ruffled Damien’s hair, then tucked his hands in his pockets and started whistling as he walked toward the stairs leading back down to the Flats.

Damien hurried after him, urging Titus to make a clearer promise of good behavior. But even while they bickered, he couldn’t forget what he had learned about Dryden, and Sebastien’s presumed entrapment.

Author Note: This story and other bonus content may also be downloaded in ebook form through BookFunnel: https://books.bookfunnel.com/practicalsorcerybonuses