Chapter 913: Silas and Aaron

Several days passed after Trafalgar returned to Euclid, and for once, he did almost exactly what he had promised himself he would do.

He slept until his body stopped demanding more, left the reports in Arthur's hands unless something genuinely required his attention, and made no attempt to search for Dravok or involve himself in another Great Family's problems. By the fourth morning, the exhaustion Myrrhvale had left behind was mostly gone, and his thoughts no longer felt as though they were constantly running several conversations ahead of him.

That morning, everyone ended up outside.

Fresh snow covered most of the mansion grounds after falling through the night, gathering over the hedges, low walls and branches until the gardens looked almost untouched. The servants had cleared the main paths hours ago, but Trafalgar had led the others toward the wider stretch of garden where nobody had bothered disturbing the snow.

Aaron was bundled so thoroughly against the cold that Trafalgar could barely see more than his face.

He looked between his son and Mayla.

"How many layers did you put on him? I'm starting to wonder whether there's actually a child somewhere inside all of that."

"Enough that I don't have to spend the next hour wondering whether his hands are cold." Mayla adjusted the blanket around Aaron before looking back at Trafalgar. "He was born early. Until the healers tell me I can stop worrying about every little thing, you're going to have to accept that I'm being careful."

"I'm not telling you to take anything off. I was wondering whether he can still move his arms."

"He can move them perfectly well. He was trying to pull my hair five minutes ago, so I think he'll survive his terrible imprisonment."

Trafalgar looked down and noticed movement beneath the blanket, one tiny arm apparently fighting its way toward freedom.

"Alright. I'll admit that looks convincing enough."

Mayla smiled and drew Aaron a little closer against her chest.

Aubrelle stood nearby, her golden hair tied loosely behind her so the wind would not keep throwing it across her face. The scars surrounding her unfocused crimson eyes remained completely uncovered beneath the pale winter light, while Pipin rested close to her shoulder, his head moving whenever something caught his attention.

Cynthia had dressed considerably more heavily than Rhosyn.

The difference became more obvious the longer Trafalgar looked at them. Cynthia wore a dark winter coat over several layers, her long silver-white hair falling over its collar, while Rhosyn appeared to have decided that Euclid's winter required little more than slightly warmer clothing than usual.

Trafalgar finally looked at her.

"You're genuinely comfortable like that? Everyone else looks prepared for a blizzard and you're dressed like we're going for a walk in autumn."

Rhosyn glanced down at herself before looking across the snow-covered garden.

"I've been through colder places than this. It isn't pleasant, but I'm not going to freeze because we spend a morning outside. If it gets worse, I'll put something else on."

"I wasn't worried you'd freeze. I was starting to wonder whether we Primordials simply decided weather was beneath us."

Rhosyn considered that more seriously than Trafalgar expected.

"No. We complained about the cold as much as anyone else. We were simply better at enduring it, which unfortunately meant people expected us to complain less."

Before Trafalgar could answer, movement near the side of the mansion caught his attention.

Silas was coming toward them.

He was in his human form, though the dark horns curving from his head made it impossible to mistake him for an ordinary boy. The years had changed him considerably; his body had grown, his shoulders had broadened, and much of the uncontrolled energy Trafalgar remembered from his earliest days in Euclid had been replaced by something far more measured.

Silas had been moving quickly until he noticed Aaron.

Then his pace slowed.

Mayla saw it too and shifted Aaron slightly so the child remained protected from the wind.

"You don't have to stay all the way over there, Silas. You've already been around him before."

"I know." Silas stopped several steps from them, his attention fixed on the bundle in her arms. "It's easier when he's lying somewhere. When somebody is holding him, I keep thinking I'll move wrong if I get too close. I know that probably sounds stupid."

"It doesn't," Cynthia said. "But you've been practicing control every day for months. Arthur told me you can train near the mansion now without damaging anything around you unless you actually mean to."

"Training is different. If I break a tree, we replace a tree. If I put too much strength into a step, I repair the ground." Silas looked toward Aaron again. "He's not something I can make a mistake with and fix afterward."

Cynthia's expression became more serious.

"That's true. But the fact that you're thinking about it this much is probably one of the reasons you won't make that mistake."

Rhosyn had remained quiet until then. She stepped slightly closer, though she deliberately left enough space that Silas did not feel surrounded.

"The people who lose control most easily are usually the ones convinced they already have it. You're doing the opposite. You've been watching every movement you've made since you noticed him."

Silas looked toward her.

"That doesn't mean I can't make a mistake."

"No. It means you're treating the possibility seriously." Rhosyn's voice remained calm. "You don't become safe by pretending you're harmless. You become safe by understanding exactly how dangerous you can be and learning where to stop."

Trafalgar glanced at her.

That sounded like something learned through circumstances considerably worse than a snowy garden, but he chose not to ask.

Instead, he held his arms toward Mayla.

"Let me take Aaron for a minute. I think we're making this more complicated than it needs to be."

Mayla understood immediately. She transferred Aaron carefully into Trafalgar's arms and fixed the blanket around him once he was settled.

Trafalgar walked toward Silas.

Silas's eyes narrowed immediately.

"What exactly are you planning?"

"I'm not handing him to you, so stop looking at me like I'm about to throw him."

A visible amount of tension left Silas's shoulders.

"Good. Because I was about to tell you that was a terrible idea."

"But you're going to give him your hand."

Silas looked down at his fingers, then back at Trafalgar.

"That's considerably closer than I was planning to get today."

"You've already touched him before. We're not doing anything new." Trafalgar stopped directly in front of him. "Stop thinking about what happens if you fail for five seconds and give yourself the chance to see what happens when you don't."

Silas remained uncertain, but eventually raised his right hand.

It was rigid enough that Trafalgar immediately noticed.

"You're trying so hard not to move that your entire hand looks like stone. Relax your fingers."

"I'm trying to make sure I don't accidentally move."

"That's exactly why you're tense. You don't need strength for this. Just hold your hand normally and let Aaron do the rest."

Silas took a slow breath and finally loosened his hand.

Trafalgar waited until he was satisfied before lowering Aaron slightly. One small hand had already worked its way out of the blanket, fingers opening and closing without any particular purpose.

Trafalgar guided it toward Silas's index finger.

Aaron caught it.

Silas froze.

His expression changed almost immediately as surprise replaced most of the fear that had been there.

Aaron's entire hand could barely close around the first section of Silas's finger, yet he held onto it with unexpected determination.

Silas stared down at him.

"He actually grabbed me."

Mayla stepped closer, smiling as she watched them.

"He likes doing that now. If something gets close enough to his hand, apparently it belongs to him until he decides otherwise."

Silas slowly lowered himself so he could see Aaron more clearly.

"He wasn't this strong the last time I touched him."

Trafalgar looked between the two of them.

"Neither were you. Things grow."