The amulet, an upside-down triangle, let out a faint gray light as Elpir stroked a finger over it. The translation stone was made from fyla with a core of tane to make it last. Since many of the crafting guilds had agreements across countries about their mana-items, Ranvir wasn’t sure of the exact process in converting fyla into second order material.

While the stone felt largely the same as the ones he’d seen in the Orykto fold, it felt much more substantial to his senses. More like a braced than normal rock. Maybe one day, Ranvir would have the time to figure out how they converted the stone, but for now, he was just happy to have it.

“And you’re ready?” Amalia asked. She wasn’t that interested in the mana-item, since she carried multiple and had grown up with a translator. “Got everything you need?”

Ranvir nodded. “I got plenty of restorative items. Bones, muscle, skin, burns.”

Amalia smiled. “And it’s all easily accessible?”

“Amalia, I was in the fold with you. I learned a few things too,” he picked over the three pocket-spaces closely connected to him. The original—and second largest—held all the general items, his and Frija’s clothes and general sundry, that might be needed on a day-to-day basis. The second space, which contained only the items needed for a medical emergency. Largest and last, the third space contained sand. So much sand.

“I’ve got my stuff, the medical stuff, and the sand,” Ranvir replied.

“Sand?” Elpir asked, looking up from the translation stone. “Why do you need sand?”

“He’s trying something weird,” Amalia said.

“I’m attempting to shape Amanaris into a more specific form. One that’ll allow me to work and gain a higher degree of control,” it had been almost a month since his return from the Orykto fold, a month of minimal growth in his Abilities, unfortunately. As it turned out, Latresekt’s control artificially boosting his scores meant he had no way of measuring his own skill until he caught up.

“And for that, you need a lot of sand?” Elpir looked skeptical.

“Presumably,” Ranvir said. “Although, I don’t actually know how much sand my Abilities use. Maybe I’ve brought way too much, maybe not enough.”

Amalia shook her head and stepped away. “I’m going to find the trouble maker and say goodbye.”

“Bye, honey,” Elpir said, hurrying over to give a quick parting kiss, then turned around. “Ranvir, do you have a moment?”

He accepted the translation stone back from her, the sturdy chain clinking lightly as drooped between his fingers. “Uh, sure.”

“Great,” Elpir said, taking a seat. Hesitantly, Ranvir followed suit. “It’s about Vasso. I know you can sometimes be a… little oblivious. But I think you need to go talk with him before you all leave on this trip.”

“Why?” Ranvir asked, frowning.

Elpir hesitated, considering her words. “I don’t think I want to say. If you’re really considering adopting him, you will have to learn how to talk with him. How to figure out what he’s feeling. That might come more easily to you with Frija, but it’s a skill you’ll need to develop with Vasso.”

Ranvir inhaled slowly. “Alright… I’ll go talk with him then.”

She nodded, and he left to find the kid. Ranvir could hear him wandering around in his room upstairs. He paused briefly outside the boy’s door, listening for any sign of what Elpir was talking about.

Vasso was wandering about, seemingly erratically, and breathing pretty heavily. But was it abnormally heavily? Was Ranvir overthinking it? Maybe he wasn’t breathing heavily, but his Perception was over-emphasizing his breathing.

He knocked on the door twice, a slight startled noise coming from the other side. Footsteps. Then the door opened a crack and Vasso’s tightly curled hair peaked out first.

“Can I come in?”

Vasso nodded, his hair wiggling back and forth. “Yes, of course. Very- you can,” the door opened fully and Ranvir stepped inside, assessing the room. Vasso had showed it to him before. Though Elpir’s orphanage was once a mansion, it wasn’t so big that every kid had their own room. Most had to share with at least one other person, if not two.

It was bigger than the one Ranvir had his convalescence in when he’d first arrived, and also had a view of the front of the orphanage. Clothes and toys cluttered the floor, except for a few stray lines where items had been kicked out of the way.

Vasso’s face flushed, and he began picking up stuff, almost at random, and throwing them into a big leather sack sitting at the foot of his bed. “What- what did you want? Did you want to talk?” he asked, refusing to meet Ranvir’s gaze.

Licking his lips, Ranvir re-assessed the information he had. Usually, Vasso kept his room spotless. Almost meticulously so. He didn’t know all the details regarding the death of Vasso’s parents, but Ranvir knew it was from a house fire. Maybe he should’ve asked around, but now he felt exceptionally poorly equipped to handle this conversation.

Slowly, he made his way through the mess towards Vasso’s bed. Seeing the direction of he was heading, Vasso ran towards the messy bed and started making it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t think-“ Vasso shook his head and hurriedly threw the blanket over the bed. In his haste, the blanket fell unevenly. He repeated the movement, even faster this time, causing it to clump oddly. The boy let out a silent whimper and tried again, failing once more.

“Hey,” Ranvir said softly, and grabbed the blanket. He swiftly knelt before Vasso and tucked on the blanket. Vasso clutched the comforter in white-knuckled fists. Even as he kept them by his side, his gaze locked on his feet. Ranvir couldn’t see his face through the mess of curls, but he could feel his native presence.

Usually, Vasso felt like an unusually calm lake, stirred only into reaction by outside interference. Like when they’d seen the rafting coming in when Ranvir’d first arrived. Now, he felt more like a wash-basin stirred into a froth.

Continuing to make soft noises, Ranvir moved his hand from the blanket to one of Vasso’s tightly curled fists. The twelve-year-old’s hand fit neatly into Ranvir’s toughened one.

He’s upset and worried, Ranvir thought. It’s the trip? He’s clearly in the middle of packing, so that’s most likely it.

“Are you scared?” Ranvir ventured, unsure how to approach the subject.

Vasso stiffened, then shook his head. He still avoided looking at Ranvir. Could still be. I remember trying to hide my feelings when I was his age, Ranvir pursed his lips. “Is it about the trip?”

Vasso didn’t say anything, just trembling softly where he stood.

Frowning, Ranvir gazed down at his tightly clutched fists. Maybe it’s not the trip. I need to take a step back, examine it from his perspective. Ranvir wanted to demand answers. To step back and tell the kid to show him what’s wrong, even though he knew that wouldn’t work. It didn’t work with kids, didn’t work with adults, so why would it work here?

Is it the adoption? Could he be worried that I won’t actually adopt him? Or maybe it’s something else, Ranvir shook his head.

“Vasso,” Ranvir said, already tired of this guessing game and trying to figure out what was wrong. “Can you look at me?”

The trembling boy slowly looked up. His face was splotched with color, his eyes were red and slightly sunken from the bags under his eyes, tears wetted his cheeks.

“Do you want a hug?” Ranvir asked, his heart aching with a soul-rending dark purple at the sight of the kid.

Vasso sniffed, then a full body heaving sob pulled through him, from his knees to shoulders. Then he nodded. Ranvir pulled him, Vasso burying his head in Ranvir’s neck as his arms tied them close.

Ranvir tutted softly, rubbing Vasso’s back as he cried into him. “It’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

They hugged for a time, before excited feet rushed up the stairs. Ranvir sent his tether-sense out to caution Frija as she approached the still open door. At this point, Vasso still hugged him tight but seemed mostly cried out.

Ranvir wasn’t sure how much Frija could actually read from his tether-sense, but she seemed to have some innate understanding of them, perhaps due to him relying on it when she was a baby. She peaked around the corner slowly, her red hair spilling over her shoulder.

Her eyes widened as she saw Vasso clutching Ranvir tightly. Immediately, all kinds of emotions spilled forth on her face. Forcing himself not to tense, he kept rubbing Vasso’s back as Frija suddenly rushed around the corner.

Before either of them could react, she slammed into Vasso from behind. Her even small arms wrapped around the orphan’s waist. Vasso tensed as Frija’s chin drilled into his back. “Are you going to be my big brother?” she asked.

Turns out, Vasso wasn’t anywhere near cried out.

Also, Frija was much better at cutting the core of the issue than Ranvir was.