“You’re not accepting it.” Sparrow told Theo as soon as he brought it up. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty, just an unyielding command, like a general to their army.

“Why not?” Theo responded, a little hurt. While it was nice to have as an option, the finality of how Sparrow said that was what really made him indignant.

“It’s not the path you want to go down. And it will attract more attention.” Sparrow retorted. They stopped leaning on the wall, and approached Theo. Their expression softened slightly. “I know it sounds good and you are truly good enough to go, but under no circumstances am I permitting you to officially join the College of War.” Sparrow said. They were firm but still gentle, a farmer controlling their sheepdog. It was clear that, regardless how nice or not Sparrow said it, there was negotiation on this point.

Theo nodded, and stayed silent as he began running through the obstacle courses. His internal monologue, however, was far from silent as it ran through as many curses as he could remember, and he occupied himself by thinking of as many creative insults as he could, while his body almost moved by itself at points.

---

Theo went almost the rest of that training without saying a single word. The silence continued to stew (as it turned acrid), and his thoughts kept returning to what Sparrow said. Specifically, not what they said, but how they said it. He pumped his feelings into his actions, feeling his control of his mana and movement loosen up (in a bad way, like a knot on a rope bridge loosening), but he didn’t mind.

It wasn’t whether or not the College of War was a good fit, but just the feeling that he had no say in this decision. He chafed against structure and order at the best of times, and for it to come from his mentor felt like a betrayal. With every jump, every movement, every instant of focus, his brain couldn’t help but hone in on that feeling.

His anger stewed alongside the silence (bitter and overpowering the subtle joys of peace), until training was finally done for the day, and Sparrow said something.

“You okay? You’re feeling out of it.” Sparrow asked, brow furrowed in concern. Theo internally blew air out his nose, irritated that now they’re concerned. How did he even know that was genuine?

“I’m done.” Theo said, briskly. Part of him felt like he wasn’t being fair to Sparrow. Another part of him felt sick and tired of being yanked around and not knowing what was going on. He just wished he could have a bit more control over what was going on (or at least, that would be what he thought if he was still capable of putting his feelings into words at this point, compared to the current state of nothing but swears and creative insults).

“Theo? Theo!” Theo didn’t register what Sparrow said at all, at this point. He just walked out of the obstacle course, and ignored the sounds of Sparrow calling out his name.

He ran through the halls of the College of War at a breakneck speed, holding nothing back. Desperate to get away, he compressed mana, and pumped it through his legs, trying to get as far away from Sparrow as possible. Theo’s eyes stung as he jumped out the door, leaping through the air as Striding Wind was put to work.

Absentmindedly, Theo could see, just out of the corner of his eye, the vague shape of Sparrow in the aggressively red suit they wore today. He jumped over the performer’s circle (and to the current singer’s credit, she didn’t even pause as commotion broke out).

He ran, as fast as he could, barely caring for others’ safety as he whipped past, leaving an echo of anger blowing into people. Once he knew he’d lost Sparrow, he slowed down.

Looking around, he was somewhere in the House District, surrounded by massive mansions on all sides. Standing in the shadow of one house, Theo reached up to rub his face. To his confusion, his hand came back wet. At that moment, Theo realised that the stinging of his eyes did not come from the high speeds he travelled at, but instead because he had been crying.

Aggressively wiping his face on his sleeve, Theo resigned himself to a slow, steady walk to The Pub.

---

Theo walked into The Pub, with red raw eyes and a stuffy nose. Alan gave a slightly more sombre nod than normal, and started to pour a beer.

If there was one thing Alan was good at, it was being silent. And right now, that was exactly what Theo needed. It was early enough that The Pub wasn’t completely filled with rowdy people, so he had enough time and space to think (and overthink what just happened). He raised the beer to his lips, and drained it in one go.

Before he finished setting the first beer back on the counter, there was another, fresh one waiting. He looked over at Alan, and found him impossibly far away to serve that. At that, Theo had to smile, even if it was unsteady like a wave at the beach (and equally as wet).

Theo spent an hour with just his thoughts, and they were lovely thoughts to have. While considering if he should start on a third beer, Grant walked through the door. Rick and Sean were nowhere near, and given how serious he was every time they’d met, Theo had a feeling he meant business.

“Had some time to think it over?” Grant asked, pausing as he watched Theo. Theo nodded, considering all the options in his head. There was nothing Grant was doing with his body language or facial expressions (in fact, it was so little of anything that it had to be deliberate), but he felt like a tiger was watching him.

“So, are you interested?” Grant continued, leaning forward slightly and straightening his posture. Theo took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and made his decision.

“I accep-“

“He doesn’t accept. Fuck off, Grant.” Before Theo could finish his sentence, Sparrow had slammed the door open and interjected. Before Theo could protest (but after he had the realisation that this felt like a bawdy play where the hero sweeps the maiden off their feet), Sparrow addressed him.

“I have my reasons, but first – I am sorry. Truly. I didn’t know it would affect you in this way, and I regret the pain I’ve caused you.” Sparrow said, looking down at the ground.

“The Dancing Wind swallowing their pride? I never thought I’d see the day.” Grant chuckled, in the largest display of emotion Theo had ever seen from the man in the entirety of their (admittedly limited) interactions. Sparrow rolled their eyes, and motioned with his head to continue the conversation outside.

Theo nodded, and they left The Pub and Grant behind, with him following Sparrow’s lead. It was starting to get into the colder months, and while it wasn’t quite unpleasant just yet, Theo could tell the coming winter would be a tough one. The pale moonlight under the clear sky didn’t help that feeling either, casting the world in almost-ghostly shades of light blue.

They walked, until they were standing in the alley that Theo had first met Sparrow. It looked different without a whole bunch of people looking to mug Sparrow, Theo mused. It was in an abandoned part of the Outskirts, and cobwebs hung from loose planks of wood around them. It was cleaner than Theo would have expected, but that could also just be from the earth magic Sparrow had used that night to smooth things out. It had been a month since then (and it felt more like a lifetime to Theo), but given the lack of traffic Theo assumed this area received, it was reasonable for the alley to still remain like it was a month ago. Theo shook the thoughts about dirt and alleys from his mind, and forced himself to focus on Sparrow.

“I want to say again that I’m sorry. I have my reasons, and I hope you’ll hear them out. But I know you must have questions and things you want to say too, so before I do explain myself, is there anything you’d like to say?” Sparrow asked. Theo searched his mind, and all the accusations and insecurity vanished.

In retrospect, it felt like a small thing to get angry over, and he flushed (which he hoped the moonlight would help cover). He did try to collect himself and figure out if there was anything specific he wished to tell Sparrow. After a few minutes (where Sparrow stayed silent and casually looked around), he had corralled the headless chickens in his head enough for them to form a sentence at least.

“It felt like you didn’t care. Like, I was working so hard, but as soon as I was being recognised for it, you shut it down. And you didn’t even try to listen, you always tell me what to do and don’t care about how that makes me feel, and, and…” It was only when Theo had ran out of things to say (and he felt the echoes bouncing around the narrow alleyway), that he realised how loud he’d gotten. The effects of Endless Song truly came to the fore, as he felt no strain at all from what would have been shouting for anyone else. He felt self-conscious, and started to look at the ground, when he felt arms wrap around him.

Sparrow was hugging him. Which was odd. For all of their eccentricities, they had never done that before. After a very comfortable few seconds, Sparrow let go.

“Actions speak louder than words, but I’ve given you nothing but words until now.” Sparrow chuckled, laughing (in a melange of consternation and exasperation and amusement) at themselves. “How bard-like of me, to talk at the expense of all else.”

“I made the choices that I did because I knew what would be best for you, and I stand by that. That is one thing I will not apologise for. But I should not have acted the way I did. I was hoping to get across the severity of your situation and how important the skills you’re honing are, but I obviously failed at that. There’s a reason they call me The Dancing Wind, and not the Acting Wind.” Sparrow continued the rueful, self-deprecating laughter. Realising they were rambling, they paused. “But, that’s no excuse. So I’m sorry for that.” Clearing their throat, they continued.

“The College of War is not a place to learn internal magic. It is a place to learn the art of War. Just as the College of Song is not about action magic, but instead the music and dance and charm of what we do. I forbade you to join for multiple reasons.” Sparrow said. They held up one finger, their right index finger.

“First, you are not a fighter.” Theo made to protest, but a look from Sparrow made them quiet down. At the look he shot their way, Sparrow hesitated, and took a second. “What were you going to say?” Theo was slightly stunned, but felt very happy to even be considered. It did take him by surprise, however, so it took a few moments as Sparrow patiently waited.

“I thought what I was doing was fighting, or at least learning how to fight.” Theo said. Sparrow considered it, rolling the thought around their mouth with their tongue.

“You’ve been learning how to fight, but that doesn’t make you a fighter. Your first response to a situation isn’t (and shouldn’t be) to start a fight or punch something. Violence is a last-resort, and you don’t have the conviction or confidence needed to properly fight and kill someone.” Sparrow paused, before adding, “And that’s not a bad thing.”

“You’re not a fighter at your core. If we boiled down the essence of your soul, fighter would be way down the list of who you are.” Sparrow said, ruminating on the topic before realising he was halfway through an explanation.

“Secondly, it doesn’t matter how good you are at internal magic, if the end goal isn’t what you wanted. I said I thought you could change the world. I didn’t mean that by wiping a city off the map. You could become a name that fills the archives, someone who could singlehandedly change the tides of war. But,” Sparrow said, pausing slightly to emphasise (and give dramatic/narrative tension to) the ‘but’. “But, I don’t know if that’s what you want to do, and I have a feeling that it wouldn’t make you happy. Where are you most comfortable, Theo? I don’t think it’s in the middle of a battlefield covered in blood.” Sparrow quipped.

“I’m comfortable performing. But I won’t know until I try.” Theo protested. A small part of him was willing to admit that the idea of fighting in a war wasn’t appealing at all, but he hated being restricted from doing things (or being told how to do things in general). Sparrow chuckled and motioned to treat what he said as a joke, but stopped themselves.

“If you really wished, I could get in touch with people from the College of War, give you a taste. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Sparrow cautioned. Theo felt that resistance inside start to unwind as Sparrow genuinely considered what he was saying and offered ways to work on it with him. Still, he didn’t care so much about actually trying that out so much as being offered the chance to. After Theo smiled and didn’t say much more, Sparrow continued.

“Third, we don’t want you to attracting too much attention. I know you want to be recognised for what you can do, but right now it just puts you in more and more danger.”

“How would attention put me in danger?” Theo asked. This was something he didn’t quite understand right now.

“Right now, you are young and inexperienced and impressionable. No offense.” Sparrow quickly added. “You have incredible potential, but don’t have the strength or experience to back it up currently. There could be a war between different groups who all want to recruit you. That could lead to everyone being incredibly nice to you, up until one decides to kidnap you and force you, or worse yet decide that it was better for nobody to have you and just assassinate you. It would mean you might not be able to perform in The Pub like you do right now, or even go places without people recognising you. It would make you much easier to track, make any future missions harder to pull off, and most importantly,” Sparrow took a deep breath, “It would ruin any mystique around who you are. The more your enemies and targets know about your abilities, the less of an advantage you have. There’s probably more ways I can’t think of off the top of my head, but you get the idea.”

Theo blinked as he processed the consequences of attention, and he found himself agreeing with Sparrow’s stance.

“And finally, this is a bit selfish of me, but I wasn’t kidding when I said I thought you could revolutionise action magic. It would such a shame for that spark of creativity to be squashed in the name of efficiency and brutality.” Sparrow stared off into the distance, eyes unfocused and not present, and Theo got the distinct impression that they weren’t really saying that to him. At least, not in the way that mattered. A wistful smile crept onto their face, and they lowered their voice, almost to a whisper. Or a prayer.

“I can imagine it. Twenty years from now, I’ll be older and maybe retired, bragging to anyone who I can about how I mentored the Theo. We’d catch up, and you’d continue to surprise me even then with what you learned.” Dusting their hands off, Sparrow sighed.

“Point is, I believe in you, boy. I have faith that you are going to change the world, and I trust that you will be a positive influence on it. And that’s all I wanted to say. Now, tell me what’s on your mind.” Theo felt a warmth spreading through his chest, and (more in his heart than in his head) knew that he could trust and rely on Sparrow much more than he did two hours ago.

“Thank you. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s because I care that I couldn’t stand not saying anything.” Theo left it at that, and was relieved (more than he thought he’d be) when Sparrow nodded along thoughtfully in understanding.

“Also, what was the deal with those people in this alley on that night anyway?” Theo asked, grabbing a random thought that was buzzing it in his head and moving it outside his head. Sparrow let out a chuckle and smiled as they shook their head.

“Well, like I mentioned before, they wanted me for a party, but…”

---

After hours of what felt like the first genuine conversation Theo had ever had with them, Sparrow looked up at the sky, tracking the place of the moon in the sky.

“We better start heading back, so you don’t miss your set for the night. Any last words or questions?” Sparrow said, as he started to move back in the direction of The Pub. Theo followed, as he formulated one thing that had been on his mind since Sparrow had barged into The Pub and interrupted Grant.

“Where did you learn to apologise like that?” Theo asked. It was astounding how their words had such an effect, when previously they had done the opposite.

“They actually teach the mentors and instructors at the Colleges how to communicate effectively and properly. Just a shame that I never paid too much attention.” Sparrow mentioned, offhand.

“Besides,” they continued, “You don’t have fun as a bard without learning how to properly apologise.” Sparrow said, before pausing.

“Well, unless you like being chased out of town.” They conceded.