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Summary
“Enough,” Eadwulf says finally, and it’s muscle memory, it’s instinctive, that he reaches out. He’s a fool, and he’s thinking of Bren, and they’re alone, arcana making the room shiver with heat, chalk dust heavy in his nose.
Essek is not Bren. He side steps Eadwulf’s reach. moving to the opposite end of the room, hands raised defensively. His fingers are crooked with the somatic components for counter spell. The chalk cracks in two pieces in his grip in his free hand.
Wulf laughs; he can’t help it. “We are allies in this, yes? I’m not going to hurt you.”
Essek laughs too; it is the first time Wulf has heard it. It’s a harsh sound, scraping on a throat already raw from shouting. It’s beautiful. It fractures. It shatters. “I’d like to see you try.”
(The years after Bren, before Caleb, with Essek).