For a while, they remained in awkward silence. Theo had so much he wanted to ask, but he didn't know where to begin, and Zenith seemed deep in thought as he gazed out the trolley window. So Theo occupied himself answering Sam's latest barrage of texts; he had a lot to get caught up with.
Still, he couldn't put his heart into it. While Sam babbled about her ideas for the game, Theo's mind kept dancing back to the fight with Imago. It sent a strange sadness drifting through him. Sam had always been by his side, but now he lived in a world she couldn't reach.
When they got off the trolley, Zenith surprised him by speaking. "Theo. Are you all right?"
Theo had not expected Zenith to initiate conversation. It took a moment for him to reply. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Forgive my impertinence. You seemed...preoccupied, somehow." Zenith turned slightly away, fiddling with a few stray strands of his ponytail.
Something hot and painful swelled in Theo's chest. Swallowing it down, he managed, "It's okay. But thanks for the concern."
"Forgive me," Zenith said again. "Being a homunculus, I admit I don't have the best understanding of emotions. I merely thought...."
When his voice trailed off, Theo spun to face him. The glow from a nearby streetlight glinted off his glasses, hiding his eyes from view, but his stiff, awkward stance said everything.
"I mean it, thanks for worrying. I was just – thinking about what happened today," Theo said quickly. "Um, I wanted to ask, are you okay?"
"Me?"
"Yeah, your arm, is it still...."
"Ah." Zenith glanced at his right arm. "I believe it's completely repaired. Such an injury is not enough to stop me."
"That's good," Theosaid, relieved. He realized that a lot of what he wanted to ask had to do with Zenith being a homunculus – like what he was made of, or who had made him. But it felt rude to pry. Zenith was a person, not some lab rat to be dissected.
Besides, he had something more important to say. "Also, I...I want to tell you that I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" Zenith blinked, looking a little alarmed. "You have nothing to apologize for, Theo."
"I mean, it was my idea to go outside," Theo said. "If I hadn't, we wouldn't have been attacked."
"You didn't make a mistake. If anything, it was the right decision, for it allowed us to learn that the Infernal Legion has a presence on Earth."
"Still, you got hurt...."
Quiet footsteps, a rustle of hair. Before Theo could figure out what was happening, Zenith closed the distance between them and squeezed his shoulder. His firm grip sent electric sparks shooting through Theo's entire body.
"I told you it's not a serious injury. Besides," Zenith said, becoming stern, "I am always prepared to risk my body in order to fulfill my mission. It is the reason I exist and I am proud to do so. For your sake, and for my liege's sake."
His eyes gleamed like the crystals on his sword – no, brighter. It reminded him of the resolve in Darian's voice earlier.
Theo wondered if he'd ever be able to understand. If he'd ever find something to devote himself to in the same way.
"I want to help you, too," he found himself saying. "I'll become a stronger wizard, okay?"
The words came out without thinking, but he realized they were his true feelings. Not for some abstract reason like helping Darian accomplish her mission or protecting Tielos from the Infernal Legion. But because he didn't want Zenith to get hurt for him again.
Maybe, in the smallest way, he'd come closer to reaching Darian's and Zenith's resolve. Sure, he had a lot of idle dreams – perform on a stage! Finish the game! – but he'd never felt any real urgency about achieving them. This was the first time a solid goal lay before him. Become a stronger wizard.
"Theo." Zenith's voice was quiet, but edged with surprise. "I have no doubt of it."
Theo's heart pounded so hard it seemed to echo throughout the night. Unable to speak, he could only nod.
Zenith spun briskly on his heel and started down the sidewalk again. But then he stopped mid-step and glanced back at Theo. "Besides, I...enjoyed it. Going outside with you. I would not mind...doing it again."
Before Theo could process what he'd just said, he turned around and went on walking.
For a moment Theo stood in place, stunned. But when Zenith stopped at the crosswalk to wait for him, he forced strength back into his legs and jogged to catch up.
Still, his heart wouldn't stop racing, and he knew it had nothing to do with the sudden burst of speed or even the attack earlier today.
~*~
For once, Dad was already home when Theo arrived. He sat at the kitchen island, laptop open, his hair slicked back and tie knotted t othe collar. For Dad, just taking off his suit jacket was about as casual as he'd get, even at home.
"You're back late," Dad said, not looking away from the laptop screen.
'And you're early,' Theo thought, though he didn't say it aloud. "I was at Sam's place."
"I see. Don't neglect your studies, now."
"I won't." With that, Theo marched past Dad and up the stairs to his room. That was about typical for their conversations, if not a little on the long side.
Even before Victor had left, Dad hadn't taken much notice of him. Not when Victor was the prodigy, the one who always had lessons to attend or concerts to perform or interviews to schedule. Most of Theo's early memories involved Dad snapping at him to leave Victor alone because he needed to practice. Theo hadn't minded; he'd been proud of Victor too.
Now Dad paid Theo even less attention. In the first few days after Victor's departure, Theo had feared Dad might force the cello on him next, determined to mold the younger son into the prodigy he wanted so badly if he couldn't have the older. Turned out he'd worried for nothing; instead, Dad had thrown himself headfirst into work to the point where it was a minor miracle if he exchanged more than a single text with Theo a day.
Maybe he'd learned his lesson and decided not to put too much pressure on Theo. Theo certainly appreciated the vast amounts of free time he had compared to many of his classmates. But he felt the real reason was simply because Dad didn't see any kind of potential in him whatsoever.
Maybe that was true. Theo would be the first to admit he was no prodigy. He got good grades, could bash out a few chords on the guitar, drew a decent flying city. Nothing that'd make a proud parent want to show him off. And he was fine with that, really.
Except it was different now, he thought as he opened his room door. Even if he couldn't make Dad proud, he had more important people to prove himself to. 'I'll become a stronger wizard.'
He still had to take a shower and do his homework, but before that he checked his phone for new messages from Sam. Those answered, he found himself scrolling through his gallery, not looking for anything in particular.
When he landed on a photo of a tall young man in a tuxedo, his heart jolted.
It was a promo still for what would turn out to be Victor's final concert. He had only been a few years older then than Theo was now, but he seemed so much more mature. Maybe because of the tux, or his slicked-back hair, or his solemn dark eyes. Theo had very few memories of Victor smiling.
As he stared at the picture, a sickening brew of emotions boiled inside him. Regret, longing. Shame. Why hadn't he deleted it yet? He felt that he was disgracing his brother, somehow, by clinging to an image of everything Victor had hated being.
But this was the most recent picture of Victor he owned. The older he'd gotten – the more pressure Dad heaped on him –the less time Victor had spent with Theo. The only other pictures he had from Victor's high school senior year came from his eleventh birthday party, and those were even more painful to look at.
Sighing, Theo set the phone aside. No use getting lost in bad memories. But as he sat up, his Levia flared inside him.
The hairs stood up on his arms. Another ambush?
Theo whipped his head back and forth, heart slamming against his ribcage. The pink light kept racing through his veins, but no black diagrams appeared out of nowhere.
Not that it meant he should let his guard down. He reached for his phone and opened to Darian's number, achingly, exquisitely aware of how vulnerable he was – just a half-trained wizard without his familiar. Even if he called Darian, it would still take some time for Zenith to get to him. By then it might be too late.
Calm down, calm down, he told himself fiercely. His room remained the same as ever. Black walls, band posters, cluttered desk, guitar case in the corner. The lights were bright and clear.
His Levia surged so hot he doubled over, then it rushed away as quickly as it came. Gasping for breath, wiping sweat from his brow, Theo wondered if he had imagined everything.
A faint breeze rustled the curtains, ruffled his hair. He got up to close his window, only to freeze mid-step.
His window definitely had not been open when he'd come into the room. And he was sure he hadn't touched it once.
Heart thundering, Theo faced the open window. His Levia stayed calm and still, but now he was certain: someone had been watching him.