Lessons

The hesistent piano notes cut through the relatively quiet house. Charlie reached out to the peddles, struggling to reach. It was nice to have the peace to practice even if he knew it wouldn't last. It was one his Dad was trying to get him to perfect to entertain at one of the parties he liked to have with higher ups and that sort of thing. It didn't make much sense to him but he supposed Anna sings and George played the trumpet before he moved into the guard's barracks at Brokenblade Castle. 

He heard the door open and the tell-tale steps of his father and Anna accompanied the piano notes. He tried to concentrate as they were talking about something, words incorporal. 

"Why are you home from school?" his father said. Charlie stopped playing and turned around on the stool, showing the cut lip and bruising around his face. His Dad's face melted from irritance to confusion. Anna, for her part, had that stupid smug face which was oddly comforting. "Are you going to explain what happened?" 

Charlie looked down at his feet, shrugging. The silence seemed to echo in his bones, somehow. 

"He got into a fight with his boyfriend Linnel." Anna smirked, always looking for a time take the piss. Charlie glowered, his ears and face flushing. 

"No, he's not!" Charlie protested, unsure if anyone would believe him. "He started it anyway. He made fun of this other kid so I said to him, stop. Then he kicked me. And then I..." He trailed off, looking at his feet again. "I bit him and then we just started fighting. So we got sent home." His Dad nodded, gently moving Charlie's head from side to side. His dad sucked air through his teeth, before ruffling Charlie's hair.

"Well, sounds like he had it coming." His Dad said, the echo of pride in his voice. Anna rolled her eyes and slipped off upstairs. "You could have the potential to be a soldier after all, like your old man." His father moved over to his favourite seat, leaning back. Charlie started playing the piano again. The melody lasted a few moments before his father interrupted again.  "Well, either you can keep playing the piano or you can take this to the book store you like?" Charlie looked up from the sheet music at the couple of silvers being held up and did not hesitate to take it, his grin showing off the newly missing baby teeth.

Charlie laid his head against the room door, his skinny body curled up as tight as he could. He could hear his Dad and Mum arguing downstairs, again. His fault, again. He had tried, he had tried hard to follow the stupid drills, the hiking, the lifting, the archery, fighting. He just...couldn't. He was too slow, his aim was off, he asked too many questions, made too many jokes, wasn't taking it seriously. It didn't seem to matter how quiet he was, how hard he tried to follow instructions, how he tried to force himself to be what his Dad wanted him to be, he just couldn't reach the expectations. 

George got praised - of course he would, he was guarding King Boranel. George took to it like a duck to water, Dad said. Charlie had sat in George's old room, staring at the weights, staring at the books on military history, at the Breland flag adoring the wall. Perhaps, he had thought, that being in the same room would somehow inspire him to be a better person like him. To be that courageous fighter Dad praised, that the flaws inherent in his bones, in his brain would melt away like frost in sunlight. 

Anna got praised too. She had joined up, leaving behind another empty room in the house. He missed her sometimes, didn't especially miss when she and Dad would gang up on him to criticise him trying (and failing) to hold a heavy weapon or being shitty at the exercises that seemed to consume his life between being awake and being at school. She was going to go far, Dad said. A fiery spirit, blazing bright for Breland against her enemies that he was supposed to hate on principle. It all seemed so petty somehow, he didn't understand. 

At least Isobel was too young to notice but he swore he saw her give him the same tired disapproving stare that his Dad gave him. Although that might just have been the tiredness setting in. At least school was a break from it all, to be around someone else, anything else. Teachers seemed to like him enough, told him he was doing well but doubt was creeping into their words. Linnel had told him to ignore his Dad but it wasn't that easy when it felt like the expectations grew heavier on his back and disappointment seemingly was the only thing that seemed to result in any and all effort. It was never enough. 

"You're being too hard on the boy!" he heard his mother shout. 

"Do you honestly think that the world will be nice to him?" his Dad spat back. "There's a war going on, the world will chew him up and spit him out!"

"He doesn't need to be like you!"

"It's not my fault there's something fucking wrong with him, that's probably something you did when I've been away on campaign!"

The arguments roiled around, same sentences over different evenings. It festered in the house, like an open grave nobody wanted to touch. Charlie held his hands over his ears, humming to himself. Music helped. Maybe he would wake up a better person tomorrow. 

Summer was ripping through Wroat like someone in desperate need of kindling and Charlie was - at least - enjoying the quiet moment, even if he felt sweaty and gross. Dad was on campaign in Aundair. Anna was in Cyre - he thinks, he can't quite remember Mum reading the letters she received. She and Isobel had went out for a walk, leaving the house in blissful quiet. His room was bare, now. Dad had taken his books away as 'encouragement' to do better at this soldier nonsense but it was just starting to build resentment. He had tried, failed, what was the point in continuing this farce? It'd been years now and for Sovereigns sake, he was a teenager now. He was getting a little tired of fucking things up constantly. Would it be so terrible for him to not be like Dad or George or Anna? He didn't want to fight people for no discerning reason. He had been sneaking some of George's military history books and found that while there had been battles that seemed to be for a good reason, a lot of it just seemed to be squabbles over who gets to run Galifar or who owns what bit of land. Fighting against demons or extremists or whatever was a damn sight more justifiable in his head than fighting someone much like himself who just so happened to have been birthed in a different place from him. 

He had tried to broach the subject with his Dad but it...didn't go well. Charlie was not inclined to try that again. Maybe he was just being stupid. 

He pulled up the corner of his mattress where he hid the book. It was some in depth treatise regarding the western parts of Aundair and political infighting. Some of it was a little beyond his ability to understand but he had to do something and it was fascinating in a way. 

His attempt at reading was halted with a knock at the door. Charlie grinned, shoving the book quickly back under his bed. He knew that knock. He raced downstairs and opened the door to Linnel. His jet black hair was unruly as ever and his green eyes seemed to twinkle mischievously. There was still a small, faded scar on his arm where Charlie had bit him years ago but the water was firmly under the bridge now.

"Is the General about?" Linnel said, tilting his head.  It had become a nickname they'd started to use for Charlie's Dad. Charlie shook his head and Linnel practically pulled him out the door. "Nice, let's go swimming." 

Linnel was always a quick step but the streets of Wroat seemed to melt away under their running. Charlie felt lighter than he had been in a while and it was just nice to be normal for once. Just hanging out with a friend, enjoying the summer. The war was so far away, family was so far away, the world narrowed into a sunny afternoon and Linnel. Nothing could ruin this. 

There was a quieter spot on the bank of the Howling River, away from fishers and other people. Charlie kicked off his shoes before running into the water. It wasn't the cleanest in Eberron but the cool water felt really nice. He turned around to look at Linnel when he got splashed in the face. Charlie couldn't stop laughing before throwing water back at him. The water fight eventually calmed down as their swimming turned lethargic in the contrasting heat of the city.

Eventually Charlie sat on the bank, his clothes already starting to dry off in the heat. Linnel sat next to him, making a face as he pulled some vegetation off his shorts. "Why do you even listen to that bastard?"

Charlie shrugged, his eyes fixing on a boat in the distance. "He's my dad, isn't he." Linnel scoffed. This had not been the first time this had been discussed. "Can we...can we just have fun today? I don't want to think about anything else.

Linnel pulled Charlie's head towards him, pushing back strands of wet messy hair. "You know, you suit your hair like that. With the fringe just down." Charlie stared at his friend, a flush erupting on his face. Something imperceptible had changed and Charlie couldn't quite put his finger on what but Linnel seemed to glow almost, like his friend was somehow unveiled in his mind, unpretentious, sweet and glorious. 

It wasn't until Charlie was at home, trying to get some sleep that he figured out what had changed. He hadn't just been reading George's military history books but had been sneaking some of his Mum's romance books. And this seemed like a crush. 

So this could ruin that friendship. Shit. 

That summer of 983 was quickly becoming one of Charlie's best. Uncle Aleister was coming down from Starilaskur to help his Mum with Isobel. She was a handful, admittedly, but Charlie reckoned his Mum just wanted the company of someone other than her children. He liked Uncle Aleister anyway, even if Dad thought he was a coward for not signing up. Maybe it was part of that, that Uncle Alestair didn't have all these odd conditions to being seen as a person. That and all the time with Linnel was...equal parts brilliant and anxiety producing. He tried to keep calm on the surface when just hanging around with him, like they always had, but he could feel his ears burning if Linnel got too close, heart starting to race. Part of him wanted to tell him, maybe he would feel the same but he was scared in case it fucked everything up. He had no idea if Linnel even liked guys. He had spent more than a few nights unable to sleep, his heartbeat echoing in the room. 

"Hey, there's my favourite nephew!" Uncle Alestair opened the door of his room before looking around. "Uh, where's all your...stuff?" Charlie looked down at the floor, quickly mumbling an explanation about the 'encouragement'. There was a little silence before Aleister sat down on his desk. Charlie looked up - he looked a fair bit like his Dad but less...rough. His eyes were furrowed in concern. "Look, I don't want to...bad mouth your Dad but this is...fuck sake George, I thought you'd got over this shit." He pulled a book from his pocket and handed it over to Charlie. The letters in the title of the book had part of the embossed silver foil faded, the pages yellowing. It was a beginner's book on magic. He opened the cover and noticed it was signed in wobbly, childlike letters "Aleister Rannek".

"You think I could learn magic?" Charlie said quietly.The concept was something he hadn't hoped to try, not with his Dad around. Besides, he's probably going to fuck it up anyway. Uncle Aleister nodded, leaning back in his chair. 

"I think you could. You're not stupid and I know that George...your Dad...wouldn't really let you try. So, thought you might appreciate my old spell book. It's..." he frowned, trying to figure out the words. "The wording isn't really aimed at your age range so you'll need to forgive that." Charlie nodded, starting to look through it. There wasn't a huge number of actual spells in here but more about the motions of the hands, wording, standing, all the small motions you need to click with before unleashing magic. "If you look at page...47 I think it is...or 45? But it's a pretty easy spell." Charlie turned the page to 47 - a spell that changes the temperature of water. It showed how to heat it to boiling and then to freeze it. 

Charlie started mimicking the hand gestures and words, feeling a little silly as he did. Aleister watched him carefully, only commenting to correct his stance. Charlie frowned in concentration, he had to prove himself, he had to. He had to have something, Sovereigns and Six, let him have something!

"Alright, let's try it with water." Aleister stood up, starting to go downstairs. Charlie grabbed the book and followed his uncle downstairs. A glass was filled with water and placed on the dining table. "Try heating it."

Charlie followed the instructions to the letter, mimicking as best he could. Nothing. He tried it again, no difference to the room temperature water. Charlie's face in contrast was starting to blaze. Over and over, no results and it was killing him. Was he really that useless? Can't hold a sword, can't cast a spell, can't tell someone that he loved them, can't do a fucking thing right, why was he here, why was he fucking here...

He felt a hand on his shoulder before looking at his uncle before stopping the hand gestures. "Are you okay?" Three simple words. Oh, absolutely fucking not. Charlie blinked back tears, realising that his breathing was erratic, why was he feeling dizzy, why was...Charlie didn't realise he was sitting on the floor. Aleister handed him a different cup of water. Charlie took a shaky sip, trying to force his breathing to calm down. The time seemed to drip like molasses. Aleister just sat patiently beside him, half humming a song that Charlie didn't recognise. 

"I fucked up." Charlie said eventually. He heard a tutting emerge from his uncle. 

"First of all, language." his uncle said, shoving at Charlie's shoulder. "And you've not fucked up. You tried doing a spell for the first time in your life. It's really not something you can do the first time. Don't beat yourself up, kid. You just have to get back on the horse." Charlie hated that expression. He took a deep breath before standing up. "Try cooling it this time, a change is as good as a break. But just remember, it won't happen-"

Charlie followed the steps, his hands performing the gestures a little clumsily but the water in the glass turned solid. "Oh Sovereigns!

"I was going to say you wouldn't do it the first time but you showed me!" Aleister laughed. Charlie beamed, the anxiety still lingering in his system but he did it! He did something! Maybe he was just better at making things colder.

The last streaks of sunlight were carving pinks and oranges into the slowly darkening sky. Charlie lay on his bed, mentally playing the notes of the song Uncle Aleister had taught him. It was nice playing piano, messing about with magic. It was nice to have someone who seemed to care about him. Even with this, a cold uneasy feeling settled in his stomach, like he knew he would screw it up somehow. He tried to smother the feeling but doubt was wriggling in his brain like a worm. 

There was still conversation downstairs, too quiet for him to make out but loud enough for him to be aware of it. Mum seemed to be a lot happier with Uncle Aleister around. Charlie had heard them talking earlier about Uncle Varian's passing. He never had thought about it but he supposed Uncle Aleister would be lonely too, like his Mum. Charlie didn't have a lot of memories of Uncle Varian, in fairness. He died when he was a lot younger. Cyre, he was sure he died in Cyre. Somewhere in the South West? Uncle Alestair and Dad ended up having a blazing argument about it but the finer details had been smoothed over in the passage of time. 

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk-thunk. 

Charlie looked around blearily, where was that coming from? It was close by. He looked around when he heard it again. Wait...he recognised that knock. He pulled back the curtain of his window to see Linnel's upside down head. Charlie moved to open the window, quickly turning his head to see if anyone heard him. No lull in the conversation. "What are you doing?"

"I have to talk to you, come onto the roof with me." Charlie blinked for a few moments, not quite believing what he was hearing. He shoved his feet into some shoes before awkwardly dragging himself out the window. Linnel gripped onto his arm, half pulling him onto the roof. It wasn't especially sloping but there was a part further along the roof that was flat. Scrambling over the tiles in his pyjamas, he practically fell into Linnel before they managed to sit down, the cortisol starting to abate as they stared over the city, into the darkening sky. Some glimmers of stars were starting to emerge. 

"Nice pjs." Linnel smirked, nudging Charlie's shoulder. Charlie rolled his eyes and shoved him back. 

"You could have made fun of my pjs not on the roof, you idiot." Charlie grinned. Linnel smiled back before looking back over the city. The view was beautiful in fairness. The river seemed to glow in the sunset and the Citadel in the distance started to twinkle with the lights being put on. His Mum would kill him if she knew where he was right now. 

The silence started to grow strained. Charlie shivered a little despite it still being really warm. Linnel wasn't looking at him, hugging his legs as if trying to make himself seem smaller. Charlie started to feel a cold sweat creep down his back like dying insects - Linnel was never like this, what was going on? "Linnel..."

"I...uh...well..." Linnel started before sighing. "Charlie, I have to tell you something cause I think it's going to like...burn me up inside if I don't. But I absolutely understand if you don't...feel the same, but I...I really like you. Like...like you, y'know?" Charlie flushed, the sinking feeling turning to butterflies. This was too perfect, too sweet, he had to be asleep, surely. He reached out and took one of Linnel's hands. It was warm and admittedly a little sweaty but Charlie didn't really give a shit. If this was a dream then fuck it, let's go with it. 

"I...really like you too." Charlie admitted, a small smile emerging on his face. "I didn't think you would be into me...I was terrified of ruining this..." Charlie looked into Linnel's bright green eyes, the last streaks of the sunset reflected in them. This was perfect. Linnel was perfect. Linnel was perfect and he was in love with him. That nagging doubt still lingered, wondering why Linnel woulf like him of all people but he ignored it. He wasn't letting that voice in his head ruin this moment. Charlie nudged closer to him before softly kissing him. He hadn't kissed anyone before but that didn't matter. He felt one of Linnel's hands run through his hair, Charlie pulled him closer. 

"Charles Nathaniel Rannek, what in the name of the Six are you doing on the roof?" he heard his mother shout. He moved away a little from Linnel before looking over the edge. Mum was standing there, the anger in her voice uncertain. Uncle Alestair stood beside her, his gaze moving between Linnel and Charlie. "Get down, now!"

Charlie looked over at Linnel with an apologetic smile. Typical. But frankly, Charlie didn't care. Someone loved him. 

He had came in a little later than he intended, having spent much of the afternoon by the river with Linnel. He was so excited to just be around him, that fresh bloom of romance almost intoxicating. Most of the time it was too damn hot to do much except swim or sometimes fish. He wasn't much good at it if he was honest but it was more or less a flimsy excuse to just spend the afternoon out the house. Not that he minded the mornings. Uncle Aleister was teaching him more magic. He was picking small things up relatively quick. At least that's what Aleister told him - Charlie wasn't entirely sure if he was being fully honest but he couldn't help but be buoyed by the praise.

Why couldn't have Aleister been his dad?

He had thought this before and it curdled in his stomach. It was a pretty horrible thing to think, wasn't it? His dad was...shitty yes but he was still his dad. And he was off fighting the goblins in southern Cyre. He could already be dead and was this really going to be the last thoughts he had of him? Wishing that he was someone else? Maybe the things his Dad had said were right. Or maybe Linnel was right and his dad was a dickhead, just like his. 

He kicked off his boots at the door, greeted by Isobel. Her hair and smile was wild and entirely seemed to be coated with his Mum's lipstick. Had she been eating it again? 

"Izzy, you need to stop eating that, it gives you a tummy ache."

"I don't care Charl." she pouted, the clear remains of red lipstick on her little baby teeth. 

"Oh, I think you will when you can't eat this." he said, pulling some sweets he had picked up. She squealed and tried to grab them from his hands. He pulled his hands away before throwing the sweets like a ball. She tore away after them, some crashing noises following her wake. Was he like that when he was her age? There was a loud thump of the piano, a cacophonic thunk which made him wince. 

"Ah, thought you were home." his Mum said, starting to come downstairs. Her red hair was pulled up and she was in a new dress he had helped pick out for her. She suited greens and it was a really pretty dress, one of the nicer ones she had. "Did you have fun with Linnel?" He nodded, starting to talk inanely about swimming and Linnel being funny. He watched his mother nod occasionally as she opened her make up box onto the kitchen table. He had the feeling she wasn't fully listening but he didn't mind too much.

He took a seat across from her, picking out the usual palette and liner. 

"I swear that kid is going to be a thief when she's older." she said, shaking her head. "You sure you don't mind babysitting? Izzy is a bit of a demon. I can get Old Hetty to look after her?"  Charlie pulled a face - Isobel might be a little menace but Old Hetty was a nightmare of an old woman. 

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." he said, a little too quickly. "But let's get your make up on." He started working on her make up. He'd been doing it for a while and definitely knew what he was doing. The process was almost meditative. 

"Charl." he heard the voice pop up beside as Isobel seemingly materialised out of nowhere. "Can I do your make up?" He looked down at his sister - still coated in lipstick, sticky handed with the sweets he had given her and there definitely was snot wiped over her sleeves. He sighed before smiling.

"Alright but if you poke me in the eye with the pencil, I won't do the funny voices when reading a story later." he smiled with the empty threat. He was definitely going to get poked in the eye as well as looking like a melted clown but it made her laugh.

It hadn't been the most successful of days, in hindsight, and for once it wasn't Charlie's fault. It was a basic spell, baby's first sound wave manipulation to make your voice louder, wasn't a massive chore. He was getting the hang of it too, even if he had started doing stupid voices whilst his voice was amplified - how could he not? Uncle Aleister wasn't quite himself, quieter, more introspective. Usually he happily egged on Charlie's sillier whims, making jokes back or seeing if he could get Charlie to do a stupid impression of someone. Now he was quietly reprimanding Charlie to pay attention, his pipe flooding the room with smoke. It made Charlie cough a little but he already had a sinking feeling that he was screwing something up, somehow, so he kept his mouth shut. They had been practising for hours, the faintest whisper of autumn chill cooling the room. 

"You should take a break." Aleister said, his voice drawn out. Charlie stopped, placing the book down, pulling his hands back as if the book would bite him before slinking away. His Mum was sat at the desk in her office, furiously scribbling down something. He wasn't sure whether it was the first draft of something or a letter to his Dad. The room had the lingering smell of lilies and books. She glanced up from her work before returning to the rapid scribbling. 

"You okay?" she said, her hands rapidly translating thoughts into inky chicken scratch. "You look awfully gloomy. You've not set the curtains on fire again, have you?" He sat down gingerly onto a pile of books beside her desk. 

"I think I've upset Uncle Aleister." he mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. 

"Why? Did he say you've annoyed him?"

"...No..."

"Then you haven't annoyed him." she said, shrugging, continuing to write. "Wait...is it the 28th?" She finally placed her pen down, ruffling his hair, her sharp eyes analysing him. "It's Uncle Varian's anniversary today." Charlie looked down again, nodding. He had forgotten that and Aleister hadn't mentioned anything. He supposed that Aleister wouldn't to him, it must have been eleven years now? Twelve? He couldn't remember the date or much of Varian, honestly. He could at least understand Aleister talking to his Mum.

He seemed nice from what he remembered. Had a loud, booming laugh like a cannon going off and a bushy beard but everything else was hazy and faded, like they had met in passing on the street and never spoke again. 

In the extended silence, he could hear his mother pick back up the pen and her fervid writing started up again. He left the room, wondering back over to the living room. Aleister hadn't moved, the usual gentle smile faltered. Charlie wasn't sure if his uncle had noticed him sit across from him. 

"I'm sorry." he started, unsure what else to say. Uncle Aleister looked over to him, pushing his blank expression into one of manicured polite smiles that never reached his eyes. 

"What in the Six for?" Aleister said, the usual bounce to his verbiage missing. Charlie kept his gaze steady, despite how much it made him uncomfortable. He decided to change method. 

"Tell me about Uncle Varian...please. If you want to. It's okay if you don't want to." he started, the words racing each other to leave his head. Aleister looked down, pulling at a loose thread on his sleeve. 

"He was...everything to me." his uncle said after what felt like a life time. "We met...maybe around your age and he was...my best friend. We had the same magic tutor but we were skilled in different schools. He was very much a healer, useful in an army and he was so strong..." he trailed off, moving his glasses to wipe at his eyes. "He was thinking on staying in Wroat, joining some Jorasco outfit or something whilst I..." 

Charlie stared at him. He knew his uncle did magic, but his Dad had been very light on the details on what he did with it. Aside from being a coward. His Mum hadn't mentioned much, vaguely mentioning teaching but the detail lacked. Dad never wanted to talk about him and Mum was so busy he never pushed. They caught each other's eye, echoes of grief lingering in a way Charlie simply couldn't understand. 

"Anyway, your Dad convinced him to sign up after we got married. And for a while, things were fine. Just usual domestic things that I don't need to bore my favourite nephew with.  Then he died when you were a little kid. Me and your Dad...argued about it a lot." he sniffed a bit, as if the intake of breath could push the emotions back down his throat. "It happened a long time ago Charlie, but he's still with me if I think about him." 

Charlie nodded, unsure what to say or how to respond. "Sorry for bringing it up..." Aleister smiled more genuinely, more like his normal self. 

"You don't need to apologise for curiosity. It's how you learn things. If the ancient spellcasters didn't think, hey what if I waggle my fingers like this and say some words? What happens then? How dull would life be then?" Aleister remarked facetiously. "Anyway, go see if...Linnel is that right? Go have some fun today. It's too nice a day to be stuck inside." 

Charlie nodded, moving away slowly towards the door, noticing the very quick way his uncle's smile fell apart when he thought Charlie wasn't looking.