The process of infusing scoria into molten silver is a delicate one. Timing and temperature are key. If the magical stone is added too hot, it will burn and lose its properties; too cool, and it won't bond properly.
Gannet's eyes flicked anxiously between the crucible and Esketh, the silversmith. Xir own gaze was intense, contemplating the silver as xe stirred. Xe held up a hand, and Gannet readied the scoria. After a long moment, Esketh gestured, and Gannet poured the stone into the crucible.
The reaction bubbled and steamed, and finally settled down. The metal looked less liquid now and nearer to a gas, streaked whites and grays swirling around the mixture. Esketh nodded, content with xir work. "Now we let it cure," xe said. "Come back tomorrow, and we'll cast it."
Gannet thanked Esketh, and gratefully left the smithy. Their own skin was steaming nearly as much as the scoria had done, clouding their vision and making them feel lightheaded. With a sigh of relief they walked into the jungle - still hot, but much less so than the smithy, and humid enough for Gannet's comfort.
He wound his way down the bridges and ladders of Bosaadak to the forest floor and sat, waiting for Korash to return. Korash had been eager, even excited, when they had persuaded Gannet to share what he was working on. But the fact that the conversation had even turned in that direction showed how skilled Korash was at redirecting Gannet away from topics that made them uncomfortable. As excited as Gannet was about the project, there was a more pressing conversation to be had.
It was a couple hours before Korash returned, clutching a plank of Seka wood. After Korash's finishing touches, it had been converted to true Ironwood: intricately carved with channels for the scoria-silver alloy, fired to incredible hardness and infused with some sort of divinity in a process about which Korash refused to give any detail. The firing process had left it a deep red, nearly black; but it had a depth and texture that made it almost shimmer. Korash handed it off to Gannet, who held it reverently.
"It's beautiful," he said. "Thank you."
Gannet strapped the board over his back, and the two of them began the climb back to Bosaadak proper. Gannet let Korash take the lead, and waited a minute before speaking.
"I wanted to continue our conversation from last night," he started.
He could just catch the edge of Korash's eye flicking backwards to look at him. "I assure you, Master Del Mar, that's not necessary."
Back to that distanced formality, Gannet thought. Korash was a master of letting their mannerisms speak for them. It was a good thing Saba Coll was alive, but Gannet couldn't help regretting that he wouldn't get to see Korash take the lead in Bosaadak. The negotiations the previous evening, when the Haskal had made her dramatic comeback, had been tense to say the least. Korash had broken up more than one argument on the brink of violence. Their physical skills were impressive, but Gannet appreciated their ability to talk down cantankerous politicians almost as much. But right now, he needed Korash to be upfront with their emotions, a much more difficult task for them.
"Bullshit," Gannet said, hoping the bluntness would cut through Korash's rhetorical armor. "You told me you were scared. That's worth talking about."
"Not scared," Korash grumbled. "And it's hardly an issue you need to worry about."
Gannet reached forward, touched Korash's arm. "I don't want to lose you," he said.
Korash slowed just a bit, but didn't look at Gannet straight on. "I feel much the same," they said.
"Then we talk about it."
Korash let out a long, slow sigh. "Alright."
They stepped onto a bridge wide enough to walk side by side. Gannet took up a place next to Korash, arms brushing. Korash's skin was scaly, but not rough; the thin overlapping scales created a smooth, almost pebbled texture that Gannet could have touched for hours.
"So, you met Ember," he said. "And you're worried - how did you put it? That she'd have more pull than you?"
"Is that what I said?" Korash asked, cringing with embarrassment. Gannet could feel his heart swell.
"Something like that," he said.
"She's a… formidable presence. I can understand why you would be drawn to her. And I know the two of you have a long history."
Gannet thought of the note she'd left for him in Korash's care: Korash tells me you've had so many lovely adventures. I'm off on one of my own now. Find me in Silmaseryn, if you can catch up, slow-poke, and we'll share stories. He thought also of her first attempt at at the letter, which she hadn't been able to completely erase. There'd been fondness there, and anger, and certainly some kind of emotion about Korash's obvious affection for him.
"We do," he said. "And she is. And I was, and honestly, I probably still am." Gannet twisted his fingers between Korash's. "None of that changes how I feel about you."
"I know, It's not-"
"No, listen to me." Gannet had been through this enough times to know when it wasn't sinking in. He stopped walking, so Korash had to turn and face him. "You are very, very important to me. You, specifically. I care for you very much, and I think it's very likely that I love you."
Being cold-blooded, Korash didn't blush, but the way their tongue flickered out told Gannet all he needed to know.
"Other people don't change that," he went on. "It's not a question of what I feel for Ember, or anyone else. My feelings for you are yours. They're in here," he said, gesturing to the space between them with his hook hand. "Nothing outside of here can change them."
Korash looked at Gannet's hand with one eye, his face with the other. "I think I understand," he said. "Love, for you, is not a generalized feeling, but a multitude of specialized ones. Your point is that your feelings for me aren't affected by your feelings for others, so I don't need to worry about the other ones." Gannet nodded, and made to respond, but Korash cut him off. "But," they said, "your feelings dictate your actions, don't they? Suppose among this multitude, someone - I think of your magician friend, but who knows what wonderful people you've yet to meet - should call to you so strongly you can hardly bear their absence. Suppose Koumazot is hateful to this person, or they simply make their home elsewhere. Suppose you leave here for months on end to be with them, and when you return it's with regret that they aren't with you. Suppose all this creeps in between you and I." Both of their eyes met Gannet's. "You must admit, it's a frightening prospect."
"Terrifying," Gannet agreed. "And part of the reason I live the way I do. I can't stand to be still; if I tried, it would poison everything around me. I don't want to let anything hurt this." He squeezed Korash's hand. "But this isn't easy either. I'll miss you. I already missed you when I left, and I knew I was coming right back. I miss a lot of people. Lovers, friends, my mother. It's something I've had to accept, and not everyone I love can accept it. If it doesn't work for you, then we can stop this, no hard feelings."
Korash processed this for a long moment. "I missed you too," they said. "And I don't look forward to missing you again. All the same, I'd rather you keep coming back- and I'd like you to spend your time here with me."
Gannet could blush, and now he flushed nearly indigo with pleasure. "I'd like that too," he said. "That's always true. I'm spending time with you because I want to spend time with you. And I hope you'll do the same. So we both know we're together because we want to be."
"I think we can manage that."
That evening, in the comfort of Korash's home, the two of them sat tangled together as they pored over a map of the Mon Dife caldera. They would have, they knew, two more days before they went there to fight Chaliya's forces. The future beyond that was a mystery, a terrifying one, but this wasn't a night to let it in. In the hot, hazy evening, surrounded by the sounds of the forest, there was nothing that could get into the space between them. There was no space between them at all.