Jusuf was the first friend I’d made at the orphanage. I learned early that he was raised by his father until he died. From village hearsay we managed to piece together it was because of ale, on one rowdy night he’d drunk himself beyond reason, tormented the village with lonely rambles, and then vanished. No one was quite sure where he went. It was the talk of the town. ‘The King of Drunks never to rule again’. Never to father too. Jusuf was forced into the orphanage at six.

Then came Lunar. Like me she’d never known her parents, we were both raised by strangers. Unlike Jusuf, she forced her own way out of her old home, proving too much to handle for the holy sisters.

The Sisters gave up on her. She was too wild. She’d wander out of the village, sneak into the Holy maidens’ rooms, and horde and steal from the other sisters.

And then there was the story of the house cat. It went missing, only later to be found skin-peeled, innards-splayed, on the Holy Maiden’s kitchen counter. The holy maiden was meant to remain fair and impartial even through her disgust. The Holy sister’s were meant to have endless wards and protections- the Holy Sage ever watching over them. Even though it was absurd, everyone knew it must have been Lunar. The next day Lunar was at the Keep’s doorstep.

Jusuf when he joined was quiet. He’d talk to no one, too busy staring at the ground to even notice there was a person there. When they realised, they couldn’t approach him, they mocked him. Kids can be cruel. They cursed his father and endlessly prodded at him, like grinding pestle and mortar, trying to break him.

I started joining him. He wouldn’t speak to me, but I persisted because of boredom if nothing else. Through time he grew less annoyed, less hostile, until we could share comfortable silences. I would often ask him questions, but he would not answer, but sometimes, whether bored of apathy or fallen to childhood nonces, he’d respond to play. Through many games of cards, pebbles, and squares: we bonded. No need for words.

Then Lunar arrived. Instantly loud and feared. All the kids knew her story. The older ones pointedly ignored her, but the younger ones did everything to avoid her. She only talked when she wanted something or needed to. Like a loose fire eyes followed her. From the village whispers and rumours she’d become known as the witch’s daughter, though no one really knew who her mom was.

However, she wasn’t whole stone. Through her fiery shroud I often saw clinks. I saw her fumble around, bumping into doorways, dropping forks, her eyebrows clinching close like closing drapes that could never quite meet, seemingly making her ever more frustrated for it.

once, me and Jusuf were deep into a game of stones, just outside the keep. I’d taken seven of his stones, and he’d captured five of mine. I was about to trade a pebble for a crystal- though we just used salt shavings taken from the butcher.

“You’re both weird.” Lunar said. She had been watching us from a nearby bench. I hadn’t noticed her, and if Jusuf had, he didn’t care. She forced her way into joining us. I was wary, but I taught her how to play. Jusuf maintained his usual nonchalance. The only times he seemed to care about anything was when he ate and when he beat me. The latter always earning a small, but obviously rare, smile.

It took her five games to do what Jusuf took thirty. She won against me. With that Jusuf warmed to her. Which at the time I took as some barbaric respect hierarchy.

Through much silence, many games and after a while, conversations Lunar loosened, begun to question and ramble, lecture and riff, even when we tried ignoring her. She was one to cling to few, but bind firm to those she did.

Our friendship cultivated through seasons. Lunar adding colour where I lacked it. She was the one to crack Jusuf’s shell, stringing out more and more words, shining more and more light his way, until he became the boisterous, passionate fool we loved.

The whistling of a fist in high motion sounded.

FWOOOOSH!

Then came deep breaths followed by a steadied voice.

“You actually thought I’d hit you.” Jusuf said in disappointed.

The words cut through darkness. My clenched eyes slowly loosened, soon after my body followed: he hadn’t struck. Well he’d struck, just not at me.

His closed fist was firm and stiff over my shoulder.

I felt a different stiffness now. It’s not that my body didn’t want to move, I didn’t know what to do with it. We stood still together, embracing the silence like we always had, but this one feeling a bit emptier. I felt guilty and wanted to apologise, but I was too confused.

Jusuf withdrew his fists. The passion I’d always find in his eyes was now a stead, like a fireplace burning easy. “I knew you wanted to learn the pyre, Lunar told me you wanted to try for the testing.”

I wondered how Lunar knew. She had probably spied on me in the tomes when I was reading some of the heavier texts. Was Jusuf afraid I was gonna leave him for the city? Abandon him again?

“I didn’t-”

“Los, I’m not jealous,” he sighed. “Lunar told me that a year ago, I was thinking forever about how I could help you, then Nimor came,” He said Nimor’s name with more respect than I’d heard him speak for any of the knights, or even the ascetics. “Nimor’s just a traveller, but because he knew how to use pyre, he managed to steal some coin from Vam: the ascetics let him take over the bronze teaching for a few salver. You saw him earlier, he’s incredible.”

Jusuf slowly built up back into his usual rhythm. He’s eyes toking up like a campfire. “They didn’t trust him with the gold’s, Los. I heard gruf was against him risking their futures. The bronzes wouldn’t be too young to teach, but they also weren’t too skilled, so if he flamed it, forcing 'em to start too young, or through any shoddy methods, he wouldn’t waste their chances at making the templar’s, like the Silver’s and Golds. At least they'd be young enough ta learn a trade,”

All of this I’d been too busy with Velma to even hear about. Maybe Lunar had heard some of it, or Jusuf didn’t tell either of us. None of this explained how he’d learned the Pyre though, just my thrashing by the bronzes. But if Nimor never taught the silvers then that just meant I was horribly unfit.

Jusuf seemed to read my mind. “I learnt the Pyre today with the Gold’s, all of that. Three good steps are about my limit, but I'll train. Should ‘ave seen Gruf’s face when I done it, I planned for you to learn it too. At the same time. That’s why I brought you yesterday, I knew you would probably be put into bronze and to make it more convincing you belonged in bronze rather than silver, I had held back until then too, making our skill difference look even bigger. They saw how good I was and how slow you were. I was raised to gold, you lowered and we both should have begun learning pyre, Lunar told me the testing needed that.” He sounded proud.

He cared this much?

He tried to help me out even when it meant for me leaving him. And he planned it all? Jusuf was rash and rarely planned. I was speechless. Then I remembered I even grilled him for jealousy.

Flames.

A thought came to mind. “What about Lex?”

“Oh, I’d forgot he was in Gold, him and his ants pissed me off,” He gave a wry chuckle.

And I couldn’t help but laugh.

He was still Jusuf, “I’m sorry Ju. For everything.”

“We can talk later, the sun’s peaking. Aren’t you going to be late for that ember boy I’m stronger than?”

I’d lost track of time with all the chaos. Edric wasn’t one you’d keep waiting, chaos or no chaos. I cursed and started sprinting to the Tomes. Yelling a familiar, but off, bye to Ju on my way.