"Mr. Sage, Mr. Sage, can you tell my fortune?"
The voice rang through the tavern, loud and bright. When Theo turned around, he saw a little girl barreling toward his table.
Before she could get there, an older woman grabbed her and dragged her back. As the girl whined, the woman bowed to Theo. "Apologies for my daughter's rudeness, Master Sage."
Grinning awkwardly, Theo held up both hands. "It's okay. Er, sorry, but I can't tell fortunes in the first place."
"Aw, really?" The little girl pulled a face, but her mother quickly led her away. Most of the other guests in the tavern, momentarily diverted by the noise, turned back to their own business and the buzz of conversation filled the air again. Meanwhile, the others at his table – Sam, Ryllis, Jin, Ryan, and Fia – weren't doing a very good job suppressing their giggles.
Well, maybe not Ryllis, though Theo felt pretty sure he wasn't imagining the smirk tugging at her mouth.
"Way to let her down, Mr. Sage!" Sam snorted into her mug.
Theo blushed. "Come on, sages aren't fortune tellers anyway."
"Says the guy who isn't even a sage," Ryan snickered. "Maybe it's time for an outfit change? Don't want more people getting the wrong idea."
Theo sighed, not wanting to admit Ryan had a point. This wasn't even the first time someone had asked him for a fortune. Cay had gotten a few similar requests at first, but his indignant ranting about how sages didn't waste their power on charlatan parlor tricks quickly frightened them away. These days, his frigid aura and resting bitch face did a good job keeping anyone else from approaching.
Theo wasn't so lucky. Of course, it could all be solved if he dropped the sage guise, but his sense of aesthetics wouldn't let him give up just like that. Especially when just yesterday, he'd bought a couple of spiked bracelets that pretty much completed the look.
The Blue Sky crew had spent almost a month in this busy settlement. Called Hub, it occupied a sheltered crevice in an otherwise flat expanse of wasteland, and its economy centered around servicing skycraft. Day by day, skycraft came and went from the many-leveled tower that gave Hub its name, their colorful bells decorating it like ornaments on a Christmas tree.
The Blue Sky counted among them, perched on a platform that had been its home this past month. Crews of workers bustled around the clock, hammering and welding away.
Amaro and Nevy usually supervised them, but there wasn't much Theo could do. So he and the others spent their days wandering the little village at the base of the tower, gathering supplies and information. On occasion, they headed out into the wasteland to hunt monsters, the bounties from which would be used to pay Hub's workers.
Monsters rarely attacked Hub itself, thanks to the Levia-enforced gates and heavily armed soldiers who patrolled its borders. It could afford all this thanks to being built over a Levia vein so rich it allowed them to grow crops and gardens. Except for Mount Neym, Theo had never seen so much greenery in Tielos.
But just like the sage temples, Hub wasn't a place for people to stay long-term. The soldiers only admitted skycraft crews, chasing away ground-based travelers who tried to approach, and Darian had explained that the tight security existed as much to fend off would-be conquerors as monsters.
Fine by Theo. While something was always happening in Hub, he had to admit he was getting a bit antsy to return to the sky. And not just because of the people pestering him for fortunes.
Unconsciously, his hand moved to the leather holster by his side. It held a folded staff with the Star of Miriel mounted to one end. Nevy had made it for him after he'd merged Ulrich's shard to the core. With two complete points, the Star had gotten too cumbersome to carry around comfortably in a pouch. Besides, like this it would be a lot harder to steal.
Whenever he had a moment, Theo would find a quiet place to meditate with the staff in his lap. He'd close his eyes and reach for the Star's vast cosmos, hoping to find – well, something. An echo of the way it resonated with him when he cast spells. Or maybe the image of a woman with dawn-hued wings.
But after a month, he had nothing to show for his efforts. He didn't even have any flying dreams – not that he had ever since arriving in Tielos, now that he thought about it.
It frustrated him. He'd definitely seen and spoken to his mom before, thanks to the Star of Miriel. Now that he actually wanted to, he couldn't reach her?
He couldn't forget what Cay had said about his eyes. Or what Meg had told him later when he'd asked her what it meant for a wizard to come into their power. Meg had admitted that she didn't have the specifics, but it definitely seemed too soon for Theo. Theo had been prepared to accept this, figuring Cay must've been seeing things after all, if it weren't for what Meg said next.
"Still, I can never be so sure when it comes to you. You see...the time you used the Star in the Liminal, I'm pretty sure I saw you grow six wings. It only happened for a moment, and I wasn't sure if I was imagining it or not. But I should have told you all along."
Six wings. A chill had raced down Theo's spine, chasing away the warmth of the day.
What did it mean? Did it have something to do with the Star's power? Or did it have something to do with Mom? Or maybe both, since she wanted him to complete the Star in the first place….
Why? Well, she sure wasn't telling. And now that Theo thought about it, he realized just how weird it was that he always saw her with wings. Didn't that mean she had already come into her power?
But it didn't make sense. Why had she stayed on Earth then? Could a wizard even grow wings without going to Tielos?
Or maybe...just maybe...Mom had never died. Instead, she had gone to Tielos, and now that Theo was here too she could finally contact him.
Every time the insane idea came to him, something tight and painful clenched in his chest. No way. It just wasn't possible. While Theo might not remember her death, he'd picked up enough details from Victor and Dad. It had been a long, slow process, Mom wasting away for months in the hospital. And at the end, she'd left a body to bury.
Still, if Mom was a powerful enough wizard – one who possessed a shard of the Star – who knew what she might be capable of?
Knowing how ridiculous it all sounded, Theo kept these thoughts to himself. Not like they'd help him here and now.
"Hey! Earth to Theo!" Ryan's shout hit like a punch to the ear. "If you don't say anything in five seconds I'm eating your breakfast!"
"Cut it out, you pig!" Sam yelled, tugging on Ryan's jacket.
Theo blinked hard, his vision focusing on the mug of tea and plate of flatbread with fermented bean spread in front of him. That was right, they had a busy day ahead of them. A big bounty to bring down.
"Sorry," Theo said quickly, reaching for his plate. "I'll eat it now, okay?"
"What were you thinking so hard about?" Fia leaned toward him, chin propped in their hands. "Don't tell me, were you trying to come up with a fortune for that girl?"
As laughter rippled around the table, Theo managed an awkward grin of his own. Yeah, no use making his friends worry.
~*~
After taking down their bounty, the others went to wash off the wasteland dust in the bath house. Zenith, however, excused himself and returned to the quarters he shared with Theo.
He sat cross-legged atop the pallet and closed his eyes, preparing himself for sleep mode. Even as his systems began to shut down, he couldn't stop a strange sense of guilt from squirming inside him.
It wasn't as if he needed to do this, after all; he had taken hardly any damage in the battle. But he did it anyway, and for reasons he could not explain to himself. Let alone anyone else.
Even if he knew that this time, just like all the other times, he would encounter nothing. No strange voice, no glowing six-winged figure.
That didn't stop him from trying. From hoping. If only he could meet that person again, he would get all of the answers. Or maybe...maybe he didn't even need answers. As long as he could see their face….
He didn't understand this feeling, this desire. And because of that, he told no one about it. He should not burden the others with his problems.
Or perhaps – and he hardly dared acknowledge it – he was doing this more for himself than anything else.