Chapter Text
“Really?” The excitement in VR-LA’s voice was all too evident, and Maxim felt old circuits of his stir to life, warming in response to VR-LA’s joy.
“Yes. This task will be of utmost importance to us as we continue to navigate the multiverse, and while I like to think of myself as capable, I have no doubt in my mind that you will be far better equipped to manage this than I.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true, Maxim. You have years of experience that I lack.”
“You are the Magister of magic himself, VR-LA. Chosen of Mystra. And, more importantly, I have absolute faith that this is something you are capable of.”
“Of course! And I’ll do it, in case that wasn’t obvious. I’ve been itching to have something to work on for months.”
“So you’ve been saying,” Maxim said, trying to not let guilt eat away at him too much. It was true, VR-LA had practically begged Maxim to give him something to do on multiple occasions. He should’ve given it more thought, should have had this idea sooner. It didn’t sit right with him that a potential key to ending VR-LA’s suffering had sat in his hands for so long and he had barely bothered to use it.
“So, a way to map the multiverse, to track which worlds you’ve been to and accurately navigate Wildspace,” VR-LA said, beginning to ramble to himself. “I’ll have to do a deep dive into tracking spells, Finbar may be able to put me in contact with some experts… It may also be beneficial to research how the Planescape itself was mapped… portal magic, gateways… and of course Dani will help me transform it into a functional navigation system, ready to be installed into your ship when the time comes…”
Maxim let the words wash over him, finding himself lost in VR-LA’s impassioned rant. It was an utter relief to hear VR-LA so happy, and if he allowed himself to get caught up in it, he could almost forget why.
The recorded message had been unexpected, to put it mildly. Nothing could have prepared him for the quiet terror in VR-LA’s voice as he admitted, sounding like he was confessing to the worst of all sins, that he feared he would not be able to keep his promise. It did not make it better to know that VR-LA had never intended for the words to reach Maxim’s ears, that he would be sorry for having Maxim hear his distress.
Though Maxim had no one to blame for that but himself. If VR-LA had any doubts regarding Maxim’s intentions in their friendship, it was because Maxim had failed to clarify them. If VR-LA feared that Maxim would be frustrated by his display of emotion, it was because Maxim had never shown him anything else. And if VR-LA assumed that Maxim would turn his back on him for merely contemplating breaking his vague promise, it was only because Maxim had already turned on him for less. What a fool he had been, to expect that VR-LA would understand completely based solely on his meager words and gestures. How arrogant he had to be, to assume that everything worth saying had already been said.
Maxim sank into his seat as VR-LA ended the call. A groan escaped him that came less from his mouth and more from several different gears grinding together in his body at once, letting loose a low, grating screech that sounded despondent even to his own ears.
“Woah. That bad, huh?” K-LB said, not bothering to announce himself as he entered Maxim’s study.
Maxim gave an annoyed hum in response.This had become something of a common occurrence, much to Maxim’s chagrin. Ever since his… lapse … during VR-LA’s unexpected radio silence, the other mechanites had taken to checking on him every so often. It was usually K-LB, though sometimes C-RA stopped by, and even E-DN had done so once or twice, though she always cited K-LB as having made her. The whole thing was an exercise in frustration and, quite frankly, humiliation, made worse by the fact that K-LB had a penchant for loudly barging in without warning and forcing some kind of conversation before he agreed to leave. At least C-RA had the decency to knock.
“Thought I overheard you talking, were you calling VR-LA just now?”
A grunt.
“Funny. Usually talking to him puts you in a better mood. What’s got you all out of sorts this time around?”
Unfortunately, K-LB wouldn’t leave until Maxim spoke. Maxim had learned that the hard way. Still, short and vague answers were usually best. “Nothing of great import.”
“No? I haven’t seen you this grumpy since C-RA spilled that cursed suturefly juice all over your notes. And for someone as sullen as you, that’s saying something.”
“I am doing just fine, K-LB.”
“So, nothing’s going on with VR-LA that’s got you worried?”
“No.”
“Okay, well, I’ll take your word for it then,” K-LB said, clearly not taking his word for it. He took one step out of the door and Maxim almost relaxed, except that he turned at the last second, hand on the doorframe. “Just one more thing, E-DN and I are going to be doing a supply run in an hour or so, do you want to come with?”
Maxim suppressed a sigh. This too had become a common occurrence: K-LB asking if Maxim would accompany him out on errands or missions. Mercifully, he was less pushy about this matter than he was about their conversations, perhaps because he sensed that this was a much harder line for Maxim. It didn’t matter much anyhow, as he always declined the offer. He was about to do exactly that when a sudden thought sprang into his mind, unbidden, and he hesitated. It should not have been noteworthy, but he made a point to always shut down any invitations as soon as possible lest he give the wrong impression regarding his wants and desires, so even a momentary hesitation was cause for suspicion. And K-LB noticed.
“Hang on a minute now, are you actually considering it?”
“No,” Maxim said, a degree louder than he’d initially intended to. He took a moment to internally readjust his volume controls before clarifying. “No. I merely had a thought, is all. Nothing that concerns you.”
“Well now you’ve gotta tell me.” K-LB’s tone had turned back to stubborn, and he closed the door behind him as re-entered the study. Maxim was trapped.
“I mean it when I say it’s nothing that concerns you. Merely that… well, it has come to my attention that VR-LA, beyond just his job as an adventurer, fights battles of a more… cerebral nature.”
“Makes sense. After everything we’ve gone through, I mean, it’s a shock some of us are as well adjusted as we are. You and E-DN notwithstanding.”
Maxim nodded slowly. “He fights similar battles to those which you have, unfortunately, come to know that I face as well.”
“Unfortunate…? Maxim, you know we aren’t judging you for what happened, right? We’re trying to help.”
“Regardless, the thought simply came to me when you extended your invitation, and it made me pause. Nothing more.”
“Wait, so the thought being…?”
Still processing the muddled slew of his own feelings, Maxim decided not to bother attempting to elaborate. It was already confused in his own head. There’d be no benefit to trying to put it into words. K-LB watched him in silence for a few long moments before speaking up.
“You know, Maxim, I know we’ve never really talked about your aversion to leaving your house, or anything like that. But if you ever wanted to…”
“I’d rather not.”
“Okay, but if you did… I’d be here to listen. Or you could borrow Docent, I know VR-LA used to use him to make audio logs.”
“What would I even have to say?”
“You could tell me why you’re so against going outside? Can’t say I’m not a little curious what that’s about.”
At Maxim’s silence K-LB gave it another go.
“Or you could talk about your whole name thing? Would love to know where that comes from, it just seems so ludicrous to me.”
“Ludicrous to recognize that power names hold and use it to my advantage? Ludicrous to wish to know the names of those who come into contact with me so that I might better defend myself from them should they wish me harm?”
“No, not that name thing. I mean the whole ‘using a pseudonym with literally everybody under every circumstance’ thing, because that is ludicrous. Also, it puts a dent in your whole ‘equal exchange’ ethos, doesn’t it? Demanding the true names of those you meet while refusing to share your own.”
“It is for my own safety, as I have said. It is not unreasonable to assume that, should I share it, my true name would be spread to those who would mean to harm me with it. Believe it or not, I made some very powerful enemies in my day.”
“I don’t doubt that, it’s just that you make it sound like the most logical step to take, when in reality, nobody else would ever do that. I mean, VR-LA’s got his true name broadcast out to every spellcaster in the planescape now, and he’s doing just fine.”
A hot score of anger burned through Maxim at the mention of that broadcast. He remembered the moment it had happened vividly. Part of him had been nothing but proud. Of course, if anyone deserved the mantle of Magister, it was none other than VR-LA, and it was gratifying to see the Mistress of the Weave acknowledging him for the wonder he was. The rest of him had been furious. How dare she share VR-LA’s name like that, as though it were worth nothing more than a common copper piece. How dare she paint such a massive target on VR-LA’s back. How dare she put someone dear to him in such danger.
He is not your plaything. He is my friend. Those venomous words were the closest thing he’d ever say to a prayer.
He had hoped that VR-LA would see it. Had thought of all the things he might say to convince VR-LA to turn away from her, to make him see how much she would hurt him in the end.
She does not care for you. You are nothing but a pawn in her twisted game. She will not save you when it matters.
But VR-LA had not seen it, and Maxim knew enough about religious types to know that disparaging their deity was a good way to never speak to them again.
He did not care to be reminded of the event now, and made his displeasure known. “You prove my point. VR-LA has been put in incredible danger by the reveal of his name, and I have no doubt that he will have to face the consequences of it.”
“Right, but that’s an extreme example,” K-LB said, ignoring the sudden indignation in Maxim’s tone. “What I’m trying to say is that people knowing your name isn’t going to hurt you as much as you insist it will, and I would love to find out why you disagree. I mean, when was the last time you shared your name with somebody, hm?”
“Why should that matter?”
“Well, you must’ve done so at some point, right? How did it go? Surely not poorly enough to warrant this level of paranoia. Gods above, Maxim, but you act as though someone is going to die if you tell them your name.”
“Get out.”
“Woah, what?”
“Get. Out.”
K-LB stepped back, hands up in a placating gesture. As he opened the door and stepped through it, he said, “Sorry, I guess I touched a nerve there. But I meant it, you can talk to me whenever. About whatever. No judgement, I promise.”
Maxim managed to hold his glare on K-LB until the door closed behind him. He held on only a moment longer as K-LB’s footsteps receded before he broke. Oil dripped down his faceplate, the tracks leaving an uncomfortable sensation on the metal there, and splattered onto his lap, staining his robe. He raised a hand to his mouth in a futile attempt to choke back a sob.
***
Maxim watched the world outside through the glass of the helm, apprehension clogging his systems and making him slow and sluggish despite standing completely still. He didn’t usually spend time here anymore unless he was piloting. The big window made it all feel rather less private than he preferred, a feeling only exacerbated by having three whole other people living in his home now, so he’d taken to spending most of his time locked in his study. And even he had to admit, it had become somewhat claustrophobic.
Maybe that was why he hadn’t dismissed the idea outright, when K-LB brought it to him. It had been a few days after he threw K-LB out of his study and his subsequent breakdown, and K-LB had obviously felt that Maxim had cooled down enough to talk. He, mercifully, didn’t bring up the incident. Instead, he sidled up to Maxim and mentioned, with a forced casualness, that he and the other mechanites had decided to have a picnic just outside the Sanctum.
“We’re putting together a spread of the local fare, just to try it,” K-LB had said. “And we thought we might as well do it while appreciating the nice weather we’ve been having since we got here.”
“I suppose the study of peoples and their histories involves their cuisine,” Maxim had said carefully after a moment of thought.
K-LB had nodded, and left it at that. But throughout the following day or so, he made a deliberate effort to pepper in mentions of the picnic into conversations, always within earshot of Maxim.
It occurred to Maxim now, as he watched C-RA through the window lay a blanket down on the ground below, that K-LB had probably made a purposeful play to the anthropologist in him in an attempt to sweeten the deal. He had no doubts as to what this was, regardless of how intent K-LB seemed on obfuscating it, and he knew full well why K-LB had planned this picnic in the first place. But there was something so deeply humiliating about being coaxed out of his own home as if he were a frightened animal that a piece of him somewhat appreciated K-LB’s refusal to say it out loud.
Because, against his better judgment, Maxim had decided that he would join them.
He had decided that it wasn’t going to be a big deal. K-LB wasn’t making it a big deal, and frankly, the idea that having a picnic on what was essentially his front lawn would be a big deal only served to deepen the well of humiliation that had sprung up inside him since K-LB had proffered his invitation. And yet. Staring down at the ground below, an anxious tension was steadily building in his gears that would not release no matter how hard he tried.
It hadn’t always been this way. When Maxim had first begun setting himself up in his Sanctum, he had conducted plenty of business outside of its doors. At the time, it had merely been his planned permanent residence, now that he was officially retired. He had made many contacts, met many colleagues and professional acquaintances, acquired magic items for his collection, and over all had, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be a relatively well-adjusted retired adventurer.
The problem was that people, and the world at large, were unpredictable. Thousands of seemingly random actions and reactions, a cascade of cause and effect so vast as to be meaningless, all of which made nearly every environment an utterly uncontrollable one. And an uncontrolled environment was ripe with opportunities for things to go wrong.
Maxim wasn’t afraid of being attacked, necessarily. He was well aware that his magical capabilities surpassed those of most mortals, and he was more than capable of holding his own in a fight. But often, he found himself anticipating a fight where there wouldn’t be one: becoming startled by particularly loud noises, tension rising amid jostling crowds, seeking out potential threats upon entering a room. He had always been overly cautious, but what had once been a useful tendency had now ballooned into a full-blown compulsion. Eventually, it became rather obvious to him that he expended far more energy than was natural simply remaining alert and on guard, and he would always find himself exhausted after even the smallest of excursions.
The first time he had been required to meet a colleague within his Sanctum, it had been an untold relief. There, in the environment of his home, where every piece was managed and controlled by him, he could let his guard down enough to have a productive conversation with his colleague and still be somewhat functional afterwards. And, well, it just became easier to hold most of his appointments that way. Some years on and it became common knowledge amongst his academic network that he would rarely meet people outside of his home. It simply became one of his quirks, and through no deliberate action of his own, he would often suddenly realize that he hadn’t been outside his house in weeks, or even months.
He had never consciously decided to make his hermetic lifestyle permanent, though if he thought about it he could pinpoint the exact moment it had happened.
There had been a fiend in a marketplace in Sigil. A rakshasa. A completely ordinary sight, given the city, and wasn’t as if Maxim had never seen one about before. But this one Maxim felt before he saw, because it was one of his. The thing dripped with the magic of enchantment, a sickly sweet miasma that oozed its way into Maxim’s mind, choking and cloying before Maxim had even laid eyes on it. Its unusual gorilla head might have obscured its true nature to the average person’s passing eye, but Maxim noted its backwards hands and aura of silver-tongued deceit, and knew without a doubt the truth of the creature he now looked upon. To make matters worse, it wore a caricature of clerical garb, the robes and insignia of a holy person marred by the twisting black symbol painted crudely across its garments, and suddenly Maxim was staring at that same symbol painted on a decimated wall deep in the Underdark.
A servant with this level of power would have been there, on the front lines. It might have even helped lead the charge, calling upon the aid of its ‘god’ to strike down those who would try to flee, laughing with glee as its master’s plan fell into place while off in a cavern, out of the way, the bravest man Maxim had ever met died for nothing—
Maxim might have been able to pull himself together, in that moment, had the thing not turned and met his eye. And Maxim, feet frozen to the ground as his joints locked themselves in place, could only stare back as it smiled at him like it knew and—
Maxim had no memory of planeshifting back to his Sanctum. His recollection of the next several days was hazy at best. From what he could recall, there had been a somewhat panicked scramble to reinforce his already robust defences in between periods of complete shutdown. When his mind and body finally caught up to him and realized he was not, in fact, in a city in the Underdark, Maxim had comforted himself with the knowledge that his breakdown had been completely private and carried on by simply having the supplies he’d gone to Sigil for delivered to his door.
And if he never set foot outside his Sanctum again after that, well, that was nobody’s business but his own.
Maxim shook himself from his thoughts as he noticed C-RA laying out a blanket down on the ground outside. It was time then.
When Maxim went to stand, several of his joints locked up involuntarily and he scowled, mentally scolding himself for getting so worked up over nothing. There was no difference, really, between sitting in the main hall of his Sanctum and sitting on the ground just outside of it. It should not bother him this much. It wasn’t going to bother him this much. He wouldn’t let it. He was going to go sit outside with K-LB and E-DN and C-RA, and they were going to sample food from the local area because that was a normal thing to do, and it was not going to be a big deal. Maxim forced himself to stand. His locked joints screeched in protest, but his force of will was stronger than the mechanics of his body, and after a few strenuous steps they relented and loosened, allowing him to walk down to the door without much difficulty.
C-RA had finished laying out the blanket, and was clumsily helping K-LB unload a basket of various food samples. E-DN stood off to the side, looking about as thrilled to be there as Maxim felt. She sat herself down, however, once C-RA beckoned her over. Maxim steadied himself one last time, willing his joints to at the very least stop audibly creaking when they locked up, and made his way over to the blanket.
K-LB, to his credit, had become something of a master at forced casual interactions, and greeted Maxim without even glancing up. His tone was neutral and absentminded, and if Maxim didn’t know better, he would have thought that his arrival had had no bearing on K-LB’s emotional state whatsoever. Unfortunately for K-LB, his companions were not so skilled. C-RA lit up when Maxim sat down next to her and E-DN, though she never took her eyes off the ground, grumbled about how useless and ridiculous the whole exercise was. Maxim was inclined to agree with her, but he’d come of his own volition, hadn’t he? He wasn’t exactly in a position to complain.
With everything and everyone properly set up, K-LB began handing out the first of the samples, explaining it as he did so. “So, this one here is a savoury pastry I picked up from this lovely baker in town. She tells me the meat is from a fire-bellied rothé, which is a variant of the creature that they keep locally, and the filling sauce is made with dragon-peppers, so expect a bit of a kick…”
K-LB continued on like that, rambling about the food and its origins. In any other circumstance Maxim would have found it interesting and highly educational. However, the conversation was a clear and obvious attempt to fill what would otherwise be an awkward silence, and rather than stifle any tension or unease, Maxim found that both sensations had only managed to grow with each passing moment.
It was not helped by the fact that the other three kept shooting discreet glances at him. They thought they were being subtle, as if Maxim wouldn’t notice that between the three of them he practically had someone staring at him at all times. There was a part of him that had come to appreciate K-LB’s indirect approach, in that it meant he didn’t have to acknowledge the underlying truth of the situation and face the resulting indignity. But that only worked if said underlying truth wasn’t being made painfully obvious by those attempting to obscure it. If they were going to be this obvious he’d rather they just spit it out and get it over with.
Because they kept watching him like they were expecting him to… well, like they were expecting him to fall apart. And really, he had no one to blame for that but himself, given what had happened during VR-LA’s unexpected Feywild sojourn, but it wasn’t as though he was suddenly made of glass. He wasn’t about to shatter at the slightest provocation, and the only thing he could imagine being more humiliating than having to be coaxed out of his own home was being seen as needing to be handled with kid gloves.
K-LB shot him another concerned look, mid rant about the region’s unique pasta shapes, and Maxim was on his feet a second later. C-RA and E-DN both startled, turning to stare at him. K-LB’s words trailed off into silence as he watched Maxim with growing concern. A moment of quiet tension hung in the air, stillness descending over the group.
C-RA shifted worriedly. “Uh, you alright Maxim?”
Maxim said nothing as he stared down at K-LB, who met his gaze with all the same stubbornness that had given Maxim so much trouble recently. There was worry there as well, no doubt. Concern, and wariness, but also a glint of something like pity and—
No judgment, K-LB had said. Yeah, right, Maxim thought, just as the mounting tension pulled taut and with a violent snap the firm rod of his composure burst like a tree suddenly plunged into a harsh cold.
“This is utterly ridiculous,” he said, striding back towards the open door of the Sanctum. “I have no time for this.”
“Maxim, wait—” K-LB started.
Maxim spun on his heel. “What? What is it now, K-LB? What would you have me do next?”
K-LB sputtered. “No— Maxim, what? I wasn’t trying to—”
“No, no, I understand,” Maxim spat. “You were only trying to help, yes? But I do wonder what exactly you sought to accomplish with this senseless little exercise.”
“I… I just thought, you know, it gets easier to do things the more you do them? Like practice, right? Baby steps?”
“Baby steps.”
“...Yeah.”
“I understand, K-LB, that your opinion of me might have shifted given… recent events, but I had at the very least hoped that you wouldn’t suddenly view me as incompetent.”
“Maxim, I don’t see you as—”
“And, for whatever it’s worth, if you’re going to go about treating me like a fragile child, I’d prefer if you could at least be honest about it. Your continued attempts at deceit are tiresome and unhelpful.”
“Wait… what’s happening?” C-RA said hesitantly as everyone turned to face her. “We were just having a nice picnic, why are you guys shouting?”
“C-RA, if it had just been a ‘nice picnic’, you would not have all spent your time staring at me like some exotic beast on display. No, this was nothing short of an exercise in humiliation, and I have my doubts that even someone as slow as you could have missed it.”
“Don’t you dare speak to her like that!” E-DN leapt to her feet, snarling as she instinctively reached for a bow that wasn’t there.
“Woah, okay,” K-LB said, attempting to step between the two of them. “Maxim, buddy, nobody here is trying to humiliate you. And E-DN—”
“What about you then?” Maxim rounded on E-DN, who stuck her chin out at him defiantly. “I know you find this whole ordeal as pointless as I do.”
E-DN snorted. “Yeah, I think it’s pointless. I think you’re a stubborn coward who refuses to change and would rather live the rest of his life as a nutty recluse than accept any kind of help, and I think K-LB is stupid for trying.”
“E-DN!” K-LB admonished.
“No, he asked for our honesty, didn’t he?” E-DN shot back. “Well, there you go. And for the record, Maxim, if K-LB felt the need to be evasive about his intentions, it was only because this is what happens every time someone directly calls you out on your bullshit.”
“No!” K-LB said. “I mean, yes. Maybe. But I never lied to you. I wasn’t trying to treat you like a child, or like you’re fragile, and I’m sorry it came across that way. It’s just that you do have a tendency to get upset when I try to be more direct, and I honestly thought maybe things would work out better if I tried for a more delicate approach. Clearly I miscalculated.”
“What did you expect to happen, then? Because I honestly cannot fathom what would have convinced you that this was a helpful idea.”
“I expected that it might help ease you into trying to go out more. Because things that are hard do get easier when you practice them, Maxim! That’s true for everybody! And you seemed like you were interested in trying it, so I thought, the first step of something difficult is always the hardest, he’ll probably struggle to get there on his own time, why not lend him a hand? And it’s not like I forced you to come! You chose to do this as much as I offered, so I really don’t think my assessment was off base.”
Maxim huffed but said nothing. K-LB wasn’t wrong, loath as he was to admit it, and E-DN had a point too. Still…
“I’m not going to suddenly be able to go with you on missions after one picnic.”
“Obviously not, Maxim. That’s why you practice. If you wanted to, we could make the picnics a regular thing, and then when you feel ready maybe you could come with us on short trips, not too far away, and then—”
Maxim hesitated. On one hand, the reasoning was sound, and seemed much more feasible than many other options. On the other, it would mean more worried looks, more delicate handling, more kid gloves. He wasn’t a coward. E-DN was wrong. His seclusion had been entirely his decision, made because he simply preferred it that way. He could leave his home, if he wanted to. He just didn’t. But the way K-LB talked about it… so maybe he had some difficulties of a more emotional variety, and maybe he had had a very upsetting, very obvious breakdown in front of a bunch of basically strangers, but he wasn’t a goddamn coward. And he didn’t K-LB’s help to leave his own goddamn home.
“No,” he said, interrupting K-LB’s now passionate speech.
“No? But—”
“No.” Firmer this time. “None of this is necessary, and I will hear no more about it.”
“Oh. Okay.” K-LB stepped back, glancing at E-DN.
“I told you,” E-DN said.
“If you ever change your mind, though—”
“I won’t.”
“Right, but, the offer will always be open, just in case you do.”
Maxim didn’t dignify that with a response, instead finally turning to walk back into the Sanctum.
***
“There’s something I think I’d like to talk to you about,” VR-LA said abruptly.
Maxim tensed at the sudden change in tone. They had been having one of their now regularly scheduled calls, making meaningless conversation as they often did, which had trailed off and lapsed into a comfortable silence. It was no longer comfortable.
“Obviously, if you don’t want to, that’s fine,” VR-LA continued. “But you said you were okay with me talking about the things that worry me?”
“Of course.”
VR-LA gave a nervous chuckle. “Right, right. It’s just that… it's kind of hard to talk to the rest of the crew about it? But I can feel that anxiety building again, and I don’t want to keep hurting them by accident, and that’s the whole reason Dani wants me to talk to you more often anyway…”
Maxim hesitated. He tried to reach for the words he needed to comfort VR-LA, to assure him that he was there to support him, and came up distressingly empty. He was not well-versed in this variety of conversation. Emotional wounds were not a problem he was in any way equipped to solve. But he had promised to try. Casting his mind back to those he had known to be more inclined in the ways of emotional intelligence, he found himself bombarded by memories of Emeraude. Pushing aside the pang of guilt and anger, he tried to recall the way she would speak when she was providing comfort.
“Anything you want to discuss, VR-LA, I am willing to listen. I am… here for you.” It sounded stilted and wrong even to his own ears. He could only hope that VR-LA would see past his fumbling and register his intent.
VR-LA hummed. “So, I guess, when you heard that message I left, I mentioned that Dani was angry with me, but not why?”
“You did not elaborate,” Maxim confirmed. “And it did not feel appropriate for me to ask.”
“Right. Well, it was because I… moved Kyana from where she was sleeping. Without her permission. Because I would just get so paranoid about something happening to her while she slept, and not being able to do anything about it.”
“I see.”
“I’ve apologized, and I talked to Kyana and she understands but… I know why I’ve been so particularly worried about Kyana recently, and it's… not the kind of thing I feel like I can talk to the crew about. Not without feeling guilty, at any rate.”
“Ah. Well, you need not feel guilty speaking to me.”
“Yes, Maxim. Thank you.” VR-LA paused. “As you can probably imagine, things got pretty dire when we were out fighting on that nautiloid. We were fighting this powerful aberration, a mindflayer abomination, and things got… bad. Mystra offered me a choice.”
Maxim stilled, gripping the stone in his hand tighter.
“A different choice than becoming Magister,” VR-LA added, sounding far too casual for the dire turn the conversation had taken. “I’m only mortal. I am constrained by the limits of what a mortal creature can accomplish. But as the direct servant of a powerful goddess, that doesn’t necessarily have to be the case. Mystra could have intervened on my behalf, in the sense that I could have… ascended. I could become something not quite mortal, and gained abilities I otherwise could not have. But in doing so, I would become hers. My life would no longer be mine. Mystra would always have at least one hand on the wheel of my decisions.”
Tell me you didn’t, VR-LA. Please tell me you didn’t.
“I declined,” VR-LA said, and Maxim readily embraced the wave of relief that swept over him at the words. “I didn’t want that. I wanted… huh. I wanted to do like I promised you, to be able to step back and eventually retire. I knew that… maybe Mystra would have allowed it, maybe she wouldn’t have, but it didn’t matter because I didn't want to leave it up to her.”
“That is… most gratifying to hear,” Maxim said, roundly ignoring the warmth spreading mechanically through his chest.
VR-LA laughed humorlessly. “Maybe. But it was still an incredibly selfish decision.”
“Sometimes the selfish choice is the correct choice.”
“Not when it gets my friends killed!”
Maxim stopped. “I… oh.”
VR-LA’s voice faltered, breaking as he said the following words. “I turned down her offer and a second later Kyana was dead . And yes, we had Vhas’ sword so everything was fine, but what if we hadn’t? And I keep thinking, if anything happens to her… if anything happens to any of them… Maxim, I could have saved her. ”
Silence fell as Maxim desperately tried to find something to say. There were many things he could potentially offer up, but none of them felt particularly helpful, and he had a strong suspicion that most of them would, in fact, make things worse. Mercifully, VR-LA spoke up again a moment later.
“For a really long time I thought… well, I just kind of assumed that I was going to die on the Per Aspera, probably in the process of protecting my crew. It didn’t make sense for things to end any other way. It’s not until recently that I even considered I might have a future beyond that. For the first time in a long time, I’ve actually let myself imagine what my future could be and… Maxim I don’t know how to explain it except that I need you to understand how badly I want it.”
A guttural, shuddering sound came from the stone in his hand and Maxim realized with a start that VR-LA was crying.
“I want that future more than I can possibly describe, Maxim. But not if it means losing them.”
“I sincerely doubt that it has to,” Maxim said slowly. “Your friend, Finbar, left to pursue his own future, did he not? You deserve to be able to do that as much as he. As much as anyone.”
“Finbar never owed us anything. He was always looking out for us, keeping us alive. Of course he deserved to finally rest.”
“But you feel as though you owe your crew too much to ever leave.”
There was the sound of metal gently scraping against metal, and Maxim could almost envision VR-LA reaching up to wipe the leaking oil from his faceplate. Maxim wished, suddenly and fervently, that he could be there in the room with VR-LA, such that he might dry VR-LA’s tears himself.
“I think I could spend a thousand lifetimes paying them back for all the danger they’ve had to face because of me and still not come anywhere close.”
“I…” Maxim considered his next words carefully. “I suspect that your crew might disagree.” That seemed like the most effective argument, given what he knew of VR-LA’s psyche. He was unlikely to be swayed by arguments about law and equilibrium given his inability to see his own faulty logic, and Maxim doubted that his own personal opinion would be of any value to VR-LA in this instance. However, he knew VR-LA to hold the opinions of his crew in high regard. If anything were to sway him, it would be them.
VR-LA hummed. “You’re probably right. And if I asked them, I’m certain they would reassure me. They’re wonderful like that. But I don’t think… I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to convince myself that I’m not to blame when something goes wrong.”
“I… wish more than anything that I could ease that burden for you.”
“Just you listening helps me more than you know,” VR-LA said.
I can only hope. Maybe, if I could just be there with him then—
Then what? As pleasant as it was to imagine being there by VR-LA’s side, able to provide physical comfort, the thought was nothing more than a self-indulgent fantasy. He would be of no more use to VR-LA there than he was here, sitting helplessly in his study desperately grasping for something supportive to say.
He was not well equipped to handle this kind of situation. He had already known this when he had promised to Dani, and more importantly to himself, that he would help VR-LA in any way he could. But he had hoped that he’d be able to manage, regardless. He had been too proud to admit that this task might be beyond him. He was not Emeraude, he had little aptitude for healing psychological afflictions, and had, in fact, actively taken steps to wall himself off from matters which required a degree of vulnerability. Moreover, what good could he expect to do for VR-LA when he could hardly even help himself?
Maxim had been diligently avoiding any conversation relating to the disaster of a picnic for the past week or so, and K-LB had, mercifully, taken that as a cue and done the same. He told himself it was because he was drawing a line in the sand, taking a firm stand against future attempts to tweak his behaviour, but he could at least admit to himself that most of his avoidance stemmed from the great hot ball of shame that arose in him any time he thought about it. E-DN might have been right to call him stubborn, but he wasn’t a fool. He knew his outburst had been disproportionate and unfair. But if he acknowledged that anywhere but within the privacy of his own mind, he would also be forced to acknowledge the level of fear he must have been feeling to lash out in such a manner. The other mechanites did not need to see him as any weaker than they already did.
This did, however, mean he was back to usual strategy of avoiding any thoughts about the things bothering him. Through the years, he had honed his tried and true method of pretending problems didn’t exist until they stopped being problems, and it hadn’t failed him yet. Unfortunately, his conviction cracked the minute he even considered sharing that particular technique with VR-LA.
If he was really a stable, well-adjusted individual who had fully overcome his personal demons and simply chose not to leave his home due to a personal preference, then he should be more than able to assist VR-LA along a similar journey. If his usual methods actually worked, he could just tell VR-LA to do like he had done, show him that it was possible. But his methods didn’t work. He knew they didn’t, and deep down he always had. But while stubbornly sticking his head in the sand pretending everything was okay worked fine when it was just him, alone in his Sanctum, he had made a promise to help VR-LA any way he could. He had promised to help VR-LA and—
I can’t. Not like this. Not the way I am now.
The realization struck him with about as much force as one of VR-LA’s most potent lightning bolts. Despite his great repository of knowledge, Maxim, by virtue of his own weaknesses, was not qualified for this kind of task. If he really wanted to help VR-LA, then he needed to solve his own problems first. A fractured, crumbling pillar always on the verge of collapse could not act as a load-bearing support for an unsteady construction, no matter how badly he wished to. And, as the call with VR-LA ended and he was left to contemplate his thoughts alone in the quiet of his study, the second part of his realization struck him with equal parts frustration and resignation. Because he had had over a decade to work the kinks out of his psyche on his own, and all he had managed to do was make them more deeply ingrained in his patterns and routine. If was going to do this right, he wasn’t going to be able to do this alone.
Some time later, he forced himself to make his way to K-LB’s door, fighting wave after wave of shame alongside repeatedly locking-up joints. He stopped himself just outside the doorway, allowing himself one moment to breathe. A small part of him, the stubborn, angry part— the part of him that refused to make contact with any of his old crew, even the one he knew would be open to hearing from him again, the part of him that shut VR-LA out the moment he thought he might lose him, the part of him that lashed out at K-LB and C-RA and E-DN when he worried they saw him as incapable— wondered if this was even worth it.
VR-LA is.
And after everything VR-LA had done for their friendship, in spite of all the ways Maxim had damaged it, Maxim at least owed it to VR-LA to try.
VR-LA deserves everything I can give him.
It was with that thought that Maxim found himself finally able to raise his hand to K-LB’s door and knock.
K-LB startled seeing Maxim standing in his doorframe, more than a little surprised to see the recluse initiating a conversation.
“Maxim! What, uh… what can I do for you, bud?”
Maxim fought back the swell of humiliation that threatened to clog his throat. “Good evening, K-LB. It would seem that, in light of some recent revelations… I have decided to… change my mind.”
“Oh,” K-LB faltered. “Wait, really?”
Maxim gave a long sigh. “Yes. I would like to… as you put it, practice certain things I struggle with, so that I might get better.”
K-LB’s eyes brightened. “That’s great, Maxim! I know last time was kind of a disaster, but I’ve been giving it some thought, and I think I have some ideas on how to mitigate that going forward. Mostly, I think having your input will be a huge help in making sure you’re not thrust into situations that you’re not comfortable with before you feel ready to tackle them, but also…” K-LB continued rambling on, lost in his own stream of ideas and suggestions as he retreated back into his room, leaving the door open behind him for Maxim.
Maxim took a moment to steady himself against the doorframe, processing the fact that he had just willingly agreed to repeatedly participate in activities that had his joints freezing up at the mere thought of. It wasn’t the first time he had considered just how long he had spent hidden away from the world outside, but as he truly and genuinely faced the prospect of routinely leaving his Sanctum, he could suddenly feel the weight of all the years he had spent alone bearing down on him. His attempts to imagine this undertaking before had always made it out to be an impossible task, and feeling the weight of it now had him tempted to draw the same conclusion. But he pushed the feeling aside, shouldering the weight as he forced himself to stand upright again, and a follow after K-LB. He was doing this for VR-LA, and VR-LA had always had a knack for accomplishing the impossible for the people he cared for. It was about time Maxim returned the favour.