Riven had a hard time explaining to the cab driver where the Willow Leaves restaurant was. Mostly because the cab driver himself was utterly unaware. Riven cursed a good few times, though he made sure to aim it out of the window instead of at the driver’s seat. Wasn’t worth it to make the chauffeur mad and risk being taken in the wrong direction on purpose.

They did arrive, finally. Evening had already settled in when the cab came to a halt beside a squat building bordered by trees on either side. Riven handed the chauffeur the bare minimum of a tip alongside his fare, then hurried inside.

There wasn’t a whole lot to gawk at. The tiled walls held floral patterns of blossoms, hyacinths, and of course, the ubiquitous roses of every shade from black to faint pink. A single large chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling provided light for the entire main room, which itself held only a few small tables that were mostly empty. He had expected Rose to pick a more well-to-do establishment. Maybe she preferred the quieter places.

“Riven!” Rose waved her hand at him from a far corner. “Over here.”

Weaving through the spaces set out for non-existent customers, Riven made his way over to his sister, ushered by a couple of hawkish waiters. Rose had already started the course—an appetizer of what looked like fried breadsticks with a small bowl of green dip.

“Took you a while,” she said, taking a bit out of a breadstick. She waved her free hand at the plate. Her still injured hand wrapped in bandages. “Dig in.”

Riven placed a napkin on his lap and tried a breadstick. A little too oily if he was being picky, but otherwise fine. “The driver got lost.”

“Ah, right. You’re new here. I’d have picked you up if you just said you needed help getting here.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one picking you up, given your condition?”

“I’m fine!”

Rose leaned back as if to show him that she was perfectly fine. She had changed into a short, magenta coat with white lapels, a white handkerchief tucked into the collar of her black shirt underneath. The bandages on her injured arm were clean, her hair was combed back into a single pleat, and she had applied small touches of makeup too. Hints of rouge on her cheeks, and mascara on her eyelashes. Her eyepatch looked like it was part of her dark hair.

“You could have told me you were going to pretty up,” Riven said. “I feel like a clown.”

“Don’t worry little brother, you’re no clown. They’re far more amusing.”

He gave her a flat stare, and she laughed quietly.

“Were you expecting to meet someone else?” Riven asked.

“What, I can’t dress up to meet my brother?”

“You didn’t use to dress up before.”

She paused, putting her fork with a breadstick at the end down on the plate. “It’s… different here. We’re not just kids back home anymore, Riven. We are the Invigilator’s children. We’ve got a sense of responsibility, a certain minimum of expectation we have to meet. An obligation to everyone in Providence on how to act, to appear, to exist even. To a certain degree of course,” she added when Riven frowned. “Can’t have them controlling your life so much that vain appearance becomes all that matters.”

“And here I thought you had a date with Tam or something.” Riven took another careful bit from a breadstick, ignoring her withering glare.

“Don’t be silly, little brother.”

Riven grinned a little. “You’re the one who seemed to be going silly around him.”

“All right, that’s enough.” She placed her fork back on her plate and stared right at Riven. “There is nothing going on between Tam and me. He’s just an odious little man who likes to strut his stuff too much. I might humour him once or twice, but that’s it. Bring it up again, and it won’t be pretty, little brother.”

Riven’s eyes widened a little. His jibe had been good-natured in his opinion, only poking a little fun, but it was clearly a touchy issue for Rose. Maybe Tam was being a little too pushy. Or maybe the moustached mug was doing something even worse. But it was clear the topic was closed and Riven wasn’t allowed to speak of it any further.

“Father never said what you found out about your Spectres,” Riven said.

Rose didn’t answer immediately. The waiters took away their plates and appetizers, resetting their entire table and providing new cutlery in the process, complete with new napkins. Then the main courses came in. A pot of steaming rice covered with broth and sprinkled with fried onion bits and cardamom, with side dishes of a vegetable stew, fruit salad, one entire grilled fish for each of them, and a roast duck. There was chilled wine too. Riven stared at one dish after another as they were brought in. When was the last time he had been allowed to partake in such delicacies? It wasn’t new of course, for his family had often been a part of dinners like this, but since Mother’s illness had struck, he’d had no such invitations for well over a few years now.

Riven looked up to see Rose smiling a little at him. Her dark eyes reminded him so much of Mother’s, a cool blanket like dusk, a promise of taking away the day’s weariness and coming home. An assurance that in the end, home was all that was left. That his family was still there.

“I thought you deserved a little treat after all your hard work, Riven.” Rose’s smile widened for a second before she bent on cutting her duck into morsels that would fit her mouth. “Stop gawking and dig in. You’re going to make everyone think you’re some bumpkin we adopted from the countryside.”

Riven laughed. It choked off on its own rather quickly. He busied himself on the food for a while, refusing to look at his sister and let her see his face or his eyes. Too warm, and too moist. Had to be the hot food.

Rose savoured a bit of duck, then dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “Anyway, yes we did find the Spectres. They had gone up north to the mining town, and we caught them as they were trying to go even further north. Into Severance Frontier most likely.”

“The ones I found were within Severance Frontier too,” Riven replied. “Do you know why they went in? What they were doing? Why they were under the Deadmage’s influence in the first place?”

 “Ascension. As in, actually rising to the Beyond, not the Demesne.”

“Did any of them mention the Sundering?”

“No. But they did mention that the Deadmage had been hoping for the Scion’s arrival.”

“I figured. Father thinks the Scion came down to raise a Deathless. This ascending they all keep talking about.” Riven was entranced by the broth on the rice for a moment. Tiny golden flakes floated on it like flotsam in a flood, and he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Golden, just like Sept. “Did you end up killing them?”

“Yes. They attacked and our hands were forced. You?”

“I did the same thing. Really unreasonable, the lot of them.”

“Hmm.”

It seemed she suspected he hadn’t killed the ghosts, but he wasn’t about to tell her that he had let them go, helping them to ascend. It almost felt like he betrayed them all somehow, heling them ascend when he should have just killed them.

Rose focused on her food for a while, and Riven followed her lead. Couldn’t ignore his stomach for too long, or let the dishes turn cold. He gulped down a bit of the fruits salad, which was a little too tart, and then ladled himself some vegetable stew. Slightly spicy, with the bits of vegetables complementing each other’s flavour. He’d have to commend the cook for a job well done.

“Did you kill them with your Essence?” Rose asked.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Did you use your Essence against the Spectres? And against the Cataclysm?” Rose looked a little to her left, then to her right. The waiters hovered near enough to spot if they were being called but stood far enough to give some semblance of privacy. So long as they kept their voices low. “Why don’t you tell me the whole story, Riven?”

Riven tried the fish first. A little too crisp, but the flavour was brought out wonderfully. Another job well done.

Then he put his knife and fork down, took a sip of chilled wine, wiped his mouth his napkin, and settled into his seat. He told Rose the whole story, at least the story that was on the report. It wasn’t the time to reveal anything about Mhell or the Sept crystal yet.

As his tale went on, Rose let down her fork and leaned back to listen with total attention on Riven. It disconcerted him a bit. Was she trying to discern if there were more falsehoods, or more hints that he was hiding something? No, he was just being paranoid. Such a perfect dinner didn’t deserve ill thoughts like that.

“That’s interesting,” Rose said after some contemplation when Riven had finished. “I’m glad you’re getting a grip on your Essence. I was under the impression you needed some help with that.”

“I actually do. Hopefully, I’ll get some time to work on it soon.”

“Make some time. Can’t be an Essentier if you can’t control your own Essence, right?”

“What’s yours?” Riven asked. “Your Essence, I mean.”

“Orbiting.”

Riven blinked. That horrid fight with the Deadmage at Welmark flashed into his head, where Rose had used her Essence create her own tornado of debris. “That makes a lot of sense.”

Rose smiled over the brim of her wine glass. “I become the focal point of whatever I want. My Essence draws it in, giving me a momentary centre of gravity that only affects what my Essence touched.”

“I don’t think I caught what colour your Essence was.”

She smirked. “It’s colourless.”

They didn’t talk for a while after that, instead attending to their food. Riven took a bit of duck, roasted to near perfection. He had always known Essence to have some distinctive colour for each Essentier, like Viriya’s green or Rio’s purple. Or his own gold. But then, he had no idea why Essence had colour, or what that signified. He had also not known about the Mortal Acts and all its sub-variations that Rose had mentioned.

Riven put his fork and knife down on his plate after half the duck went down his gullet, crossing the two utensils to signal that he was done. Rose followed soon after. They waited, sitting patiently as the servers removed the plates and this dishes, clearing the table and setting down new cutlery—small spoons, bowls, cups, and tall glasses.

“The mining town was a big mess,” Rose said. She looked thoughtful, and a little sad. “Surprising that there were still people living there, given the state we found it in.”

Riven leaned forward in his seat. “What sort of state was it in?”

“You wouldn’t believe the state of disrepair. The houses were mostly abandoned and falling down, the people were little more than beggars and drifters, and the mine was completely abandoned. Apparently, most of the people in the mining town had left for Welmark or elsewhere.” Rose sighed. “It was a downright disaster.”

“What happened to the people there?” Riven asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Are they still there? Didn’t you bring them down with you?”

Rose frowned. “Riven, they’re people, not pets. I can’t force them to go anywhere. We talked to one old man who seemed to be in charge, somewhat, but it wasn’t pleasant or productive in any way. Those people don’t want our help. They have their own little world to live in. I don’t want to think on what they might do once the Deathless start preying on them.”

Riven bit back from arguing. Dead. That’s what they’d be is any Deathless ever decided to attack. Look what had happened to Rattles, and that had the Frontier Guard nearby to help. The lives of those villagers who had survived would never be the same again. Darley was lost for good.

But Riven forced one a smile. “At least you didn’t have to extend yourself too much,”

“True. Tam took care of most of the Spectres.”

The waiters brought in dessert, which put another pause on their conversation. Riven’s eyes jumped from one sugary delicacy to another. Gelatinous puddings bobbed as they were put down, cakes of various flavours and shapes enticed him with their sparkling icing, and the custard would have been rather drab compared to everything else if the fruit on it hadn’t been arranged into a small mountain.

Riven cut himself a chunk of the pudding and savoured the yellow blob. Sweet, but not too much, though the texture was a little crumblier than he was used to. Some work needed.

“I need to find out what my next mission is,” Rose said.

“Next mission?” Riven asked around a mouthful of cake. Blueberry, his favourite. “You need to rest, Rose. Take a break. Give those wounds a chance to heal properly.”

“I did say I’m perfectly fine, didn’t I?”

“You’re restless. Jumpy. At some point, you’re going to hurt yourself worse than you already are.”

“Riven, you should know there’s no time to dawdle anymore. We’re in the middle of something momentous. Something historic. If we don’t act now, we’ll never get another similar chance. All hands on deck, and all that crap.”

Riven looked down at the slice of cake on his plate. “Isn’t this dawdling?”

“This is a reward for a job well done.”

“And rest isn’t a good reward?”

“A reward for you.”

Riven spooned a bit of the cake into his mouth. “You don’t need a reward?”

“Rewards are for hedonists. True professionals like myself don’t it.”

“Oh, and here I thought you had brought me here to celebrate, yet now I find this whole thing is an insult.” Riven gave her a flat stare. “Really? A Hedonist?”

Rose laughed. “Yes. I can’t relax when there’s so much that needs to be done. These wounds will heal while I take it easy. I promise I won’t push myself too hard.”

For the last entre, the waiters had brought in a jug with a blue drink with little black bits throughout it. It tasted… weird. Too much fruit, of too many kinds, and Riven couldn’t pick out any individual flavours, all of which were in discord like out-of-tune instruments of an orchestra. Too many inputs. Too restless.

Just like Rose.

“What if you helped me with my mission?” Riven asked.

Rose gave him a little smile that all but said he was being naïve. “I think I will have my own assignments to take care of soon.”

“I think Father mentioned your assignment might be with me too.”

“Must be one of his ploys,” Rose muttered.

“What are you talking about?”

Rose looked at Riven for a moment. She closed her eyes, then opened them, seemingly coming to a decision. “Orbray might have ordered all Essentiers into this Deathless hunting business, but I don’t think Fathers agrees. Yes, he’s sent out most of his Essentiers too, but he’s holding some back. Like you, and Viriya. And me too, apparently.”

Riven shook his head. Father was keeping him back? The way Rose said it made it sound like Father had some grand plan in the works and they were all a cog in those gears. Viriya he understood, and Rose too. Glaven would likely have been part of it too, if he’d been conscious and well. But why Riven? Wasn’t he too useless and too inexperienced?

“I’m going to the research facility in Rennervation Demesne after a small task,” he said. “I think you’re coming with me.”

Rose’s eyes widened at that. She paused with the glass filled the blue drink halfway to her mouth, a faraway look stealing into her eyes. “Is this about Mother?”

The vagueness in her voice suggested there was more going on, but Riven didn’t push it. He still had to deal with the that mountainous custard after all. Whatever Father had planned could wait until he was done. “Then that’s going to be your rest, deal?”

“That’s a deal, little brother.”

#

The temptation to go home, plop into bed, and not rise again until morning was strong, but Riven proved himself stronger. Or more foolish, maybe. Depended entirely on the outcome. The idea of meeting Viriya, of basically confronting her at her own home, seemed both courageous and ridiculous at the same time.

Regardless, Riven was there. By the time his dinner with Rose had ended, it was well past any decent person’s bedtime. He hesitated before Viriya’s door, one hand raised to knock but held back just as he had last night at the Frontier Guards’ garrison. She could get even more upset at his insistence on seeing her. He might make everything worse. Even Rio had counselled giving some space and letting things cool off before broaching the subject.

But that was part of the problem. Listening to Rio felt like taking advice from a spider that wanted only to have him in the centre of the web, trapped and unable to leave.

So Riven knocked, the sound eclipsed by the hammering of his heart.

“Come in,” Viriya said.

The door was unlocked. Riven closed it softly behind him, and stood near it, as though he was a lion’s den and need to stick close to the exit for a rapid escape if the need ever arose. Plus, it was quite dark. All the lights were off, and Viriya was little more than a shadow sitting on her couch in the living room, a hint of her outlined by the soft light from outside.

“It’s very late,” she said.

“Er, right, it is, sorry.” Riven paused, cursing himself. He hadn’t come here to trip over his own words, damn it. He took a deep breath, then exhaled. “I just came here to ask if you were still open to helping figure my Essence out.”

She shifted, and it wasn’t difficult to tell her eyes were boring into him, her pupils two dots of deeper darkness in the gloom. “We have work tomorrow.”

“Of course. But I hoped before we went to the post office, you could show me a few pointers.”

“I’m tired, and I need some rest honestly.”

“Doesn’t have to be long. I’d be fine with a little guidance. Even if it’s only theoretical.”

Viriya was silent. Chasm, he really shouldn’t have come here at a time like this, when she clearly wanted to be alone. He’d thought his heart would calm down when he got in, but it only got worse.

“You know,” Viriya said, her voice turning colder with every word. “It gets difficult when things are hidden.”

Riven’s heart spasmed. Hidden? Yes, he’d hidden some things before but he’d come clean afterwards too, hadn’t he? He had told her about Mhell, about the broken god too. She knew about Mother too. What hadn’t he—the crystal! Riven swallowed. He had told her about the crystal, hadn’t he, when he had mentioned meeting Mhell while looking for Darley?

It was too hard to recall. The flood of information over the last few days made a jumble of everything that had gone down. He had told her a lot, that was for certain, but the specifics were hazy.

But if Riven hadn’t told her about the Sept crystal, about the fact that it was a piece of a Scion, then who had?

Heart feeling like it was in his mouth, Riven did is best speak. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Viriya was silent again, for a moment. “I’m tired, Riven, and I don’t think either of us wants to argue.”

“I… wasn’t trying to argue.”

“See you tomorrow, Riven. Good night.”

Riven checked his thoughts and his urge to push, then nodded. “Good night. And thank you.”

He left, shutting the door behind him. It didn’t bear thinking. None of it. Sleep awaited hm, called out to him, pulled him along and strung him up in its dreamy embrace to take him where things weren’t so complicated. Tomorrow. He’d see how things were tomorrow.

At least he hadn’t forgotten to say good night.