As it turns out, Patrick didn't end up sorting all his issues the next day. He decided to do what he always did, bury them and focus on something unrealted.

Though Patrick couldn't claim it was completely unrelated. Vinike Academy had been sending letters for a while, practically ordering his parents to come in and officially enroll him.

Well, one couldn't come in on account of being dead, the other, well...

"Mornin' Sweetheart..." The soft voice rang familiarly behind Pat. Oh no, Pat hadn't expected him up for at least a couple hours, much less come out.

Fuck, this was gonna be awkward.

"Uh Dad... It's 2pm..." Patrick hesitantly admitted. Varíen blinked, only partly surprised by that.

Its not like it was anything new, this routine they had. Patrick would practically beg his father to eat something, anything.

Varíen would complain but relent after about 10 minutes and then they would eat, and stay quiet, and try not to address the huge elephant in the room.

Patrick glanced at the rickety table they'd had since he was a toddler, glanced at the third chair that used to house his papa, and the love of his dad's life.

He refused to let his gaze linger, to let Dad catch him staring at it. If Patrick was found out, Dad would get that awful look in his eye.

The look of someone who'd lost a piece of their heart and soul, a haunted look. Patrick remembered when that look first settled into place...

***

A preteen boy sat on the wooden floor of his shack-like house, drawing with his likely budding magic. Despite how they flickered from time to time (Likely the innate instability of human magic, a pity he hadn't inherited Silas' natural talent.), they were pretty good, as expected of a human.

Patrick's other father, Varien, was making lunch for his son and him, floating different ingredients around and lighting their stove on fire (Varien has fine control, just as Silas said.).

Both were smiling, they laughed and joked with each other while completing their various tasks. They wouldn't be happy for long...

Dolan Greeve knocked as softly as he could on the wooden door, afraid applying too much force might break it down. It wouldn't be the first time when around these human houses. Despite knocking so softly, he could hear footsteps speed-walking to the door along with a still-childlike voice calling out "I'll get it!".

Dolan turned to his partner, Mason Poline, and grimaced. Both of them hated this part, Especially because that had met the child before. He was a funny, intelligent, cute kid. Now they'd have to tell the little one his father died, it never went well. Why would it?

The door opened revealing Pat, smiling brightly, eyes even brighter. He'd probably been expecting Silas.

When Patrick realized it wasn't his father he dimmed.

"Oh, hi Mr. Greeve, Papa's not here, do you need something?" The child questioned, Dolan was suprised the kid remembered his last name. They hadn't visited that much recently, a shame.

Dolan steeled himself, and began softly.

"Hey kid, is Varien home?" Dolan asked, a pit in his stomach.

"Yeah, you want me to get him?"

"T-that'd be great, thanks kid." Dolan's voice trembled and he had to use all of his self control to stifle it.

Patrick thankfully hadn't noticed, nodded his head, and ran to get his dad.

Once Pat left, Dolan's hands began trembling too. He soon felt Mason's muscled hand at his back, steadying him.

Dolan didn't know why though, it wasn't like his knees were-

Oh.

His knees were shaking.

Dolan glanced up at the berserker, who looked worried, as always.

Despite the terrifying things Mason could achieve with a warhammer, he was one of the kindest people Dolan had ever met.

Dolan glanced up at the hulking beast of a man, a man who was weaved of sunlight, illuminating everything in his warmth. He looked up, and saw that the sun had gone cold, merely a white dwarf now. Still blazingly hot, but merely a shell of the radiance that he had once exuded.

The two of 'em came here to officially create a widow, a half orphan, and a grave. Neither of them would leave this district unscathed.

Well, it's only fair, to receive this retribution, while coming here to-

The door opened quietly, almost too quiet for a human to hear. Varien Alixa smoothly stepped out, almost gliding across the ground, for how quietly he stepped.

Varien had always been like that. He seemed small, but even among other humans. Varien blended into the background, but only physically.

His presense rivaled some of the strongest warriors, demanding you look at him and him only. It was not unexpected, one had to be a font of personality to keep up with Silas. Or, well... kept up.

Looking at their relationship, someone unacquainted with the two would believe that Silas had dominated. That was a total lie, one Varien would have likely smacked you for.

The greatest example of the balance they had created in their marriage, was with their son. Patrick had always been an insecure child, not quite fitting into himself. Despite this, Pat had a way about him, something in those eyes that made you wanna know more.

It was obvious, kid was gonna have a harem someday.

That vulnerability only made you want to get closer, to protect him. That small smile could make your day.

Just like Varien.

His eyes glowed with delight when the people he cared for were around.

Just like Silas.

Why, oh why did Dolan have to be the one to-

Dolan felt an elbow nudge him. He snapped back from his thoughts at the action.

Mason was trying to get his attention, because Varien was waiting.

"Hello Dolt, Machild, what bring you here to our... humble abode." Varien questioned, slipping into an over exaggerated bow. Eyes sparkling with humor.

It was a running joke, to treat the Ferins like royalty. The nicknames a side effect of Varien's... unique sense of humor. Unfortunately, Dolan couldn't match the energy.

"Hey Vari, we... need to talk." No sense wasting time, right?

Instantly Varien sobered, looking a mixture of curious and slightly worried. "We need to talk." Never meant anything happy.

Why did it have to be us?

***

Patrick was eavesdropping.

He knew he probably shouldn't, he didn't even mean to. But something about Mr. Greeve' tone made him worried.

It betrayed the calm facade the adventurer was forcing. Even Mr. Poline looked grim.

Patrick had to know, had to be sure Papa was alright. Papa was supposed to be back days ago, and now his team was back without him.

Surely, he was just doing super cool adventurer things right?

Wait... no...

"Yeah, what is it Dolan?"

Dad asked, seeming to have noticed Mr. Greeve's tone as well.

"It's about Silas..."

Patrick recognized the name of his Papa... surely everything was fine.

Papa couldn't possibly be hurt? Right?

No more... stop!

The memories began to get fuzzy, things started to blur together.

"Silas' dead, Varien."

Silence, horrible, horrible silence, then a scream.

A scream of pure anguish and grief.

Quick breaths, desperate to get air to lungs.

A totem slamming against a wall, thrown in rage and self-loathing and sorrow and a thousand other emotions.

Papa had gotten himself killed.

Dad, not leaving bed for days, wasting away.

Please...

A lonely boy who had to grow up too fast, because he'd lost both his parents on the same day.

STOP IT!

The memory faded, having completed its mission of terrorizing Pat.

Patrick would've felt shocked by the forced resurgence of the past, but he already knew the cause.

"Why did you stop?"

No, don't you even start with all that "be vulnerable" crap. What the fuck is wrong with you!

"You were the one who remembered, I just gave a little push."

You will never do that again.

"Or what?"

Or I will rip you out of my head. Either you leave, or I die and you can torture the void instead.

"..."

Glad we figured that out.

While it felt like he had been in that memory for hours, it had only been a few moments. Dad hadn't noticed him still looking at the chair.

Patrick looked away before that changed.

"So uh, I need to go to school today." Patrick told his Dad, slowly.

"Alright" Was all his father responded with, unsurprisingly.

Patrick still wished his dad had asked why, despite himself. But that was all his dad said.

Patrick slowly got up, staring at his father. But they spoke no more words to each other. Pat tried holding out hope, readying himself as slow as possible, but no. He even waited at the door for a moment.

Varien didn't notice.

"Bye, dad..." Patrick called out weakly, throughly disheartened.

"Why should today be any different?"

Patrick ignored the voice that echoed his own thoughts.

Stepping outside his home, Pat took in the Nairiq district. The ground was dirt, the grass stripped away long ago.

The dirt itself was hard and compact, hard as concrete and rough as stone.

2 years ago the dirt around his family's house had been actual soil. Rich and full of life. Thanks to Papa, flowers of all kinds had lived around. Thanks to his magic.

The magic had died out 3 weeks after Papa did. And nothing was left.

Patrick had tried to revive the soil, recreate what his father had started. Papa would've loved it, he had taught Patrick how to care for plants after all.

Varien had cried for 4 hours upon seeing the seed packages. They were the same ones Silas had bought when Pat was a child.

It wasn't like Varien hated plants, he hated the memories they brought back.

Patrick turned away from his home, also hating the visions of lazily waving flowers and friendly, bumbling bees that had visited.

This part of the district was filled to the brim with small, wooden houses like Pat's. The other, filled with complex's and apartments. If anything the shacks were better, at least you didn't have to share the depression with neighbors.

As Patrick stared at the wooden houses, Ryan exited one of them.

Patrick immediately hid, knowing what would come if Ryan noticed him.

The Talk.

Obviously Patrick wanted to avoid that at all costs, so he just stalked his crush like a perfectly normal, well-adjusted teenager.

Ryan had his uniform on, continuing the infuriating trend. His hair was messy and ungroomed, Ryan had obviously woke up recently.

It was odd though, He was usually much more meticulous about his appearance. Always something about impressing his fans... whoever they were.

Pat watched as Ryan left his house and began down the path towards Pat's stretch of the woods. Ryan slowly went over to Pat's house and sat on the steps. Quite literally twiddling his thumbs.

"Patrick." Ryan said quietly, almost whispering. Pat froze, though he should have expected that. How could even a trainee guard not sense someone's presence.

"Can we not play like this today, we need to talk." Ryan continued, his voice softer then Pat had ever heard it. Patrick had been expecting anger, maybe even hatred.

Never this.

It was this unexpectedness that made Patrick leave his hiding place and go to sit beside his friend.

There was a moment of silence, before Ryan turned towards Patrick, and hugged him.

Ryan had always been a touchy guy, but this was different. My, oh my was this different. Before it might've been like a force of nature, crushing and yet gentle all at once.

This was only gentle, scarily so.

"Please... forgive me." Ryan begged, voice strained.

What?

"I never meant to hurt you... I-I had promised myself to do the opposite... I've failed."

Pat's shoulder felt wet, he's crying. Ryan, mr. tough guard guy... crying for Pat of all people.

Guess Patrick's plan hadn't worked, huh?

"Ryan, I..." Patrick started, unsure of what to say. Oh this was the completely wrong reaction. What was Ryan doing?

The guard's head snapped up to look at Pat. Ryan's eyes were red-rimmed, too much to be from just 5 seconds of tears.

"I forgive you, Ryan. It's my fault." Patrick admitted, feeling like a complete jackass.

Ryan pulled away from the hug and stared Patrick dead in the eyes.

"No, it is not. Never blame yourself for me scaring you, for hurting you." Ryan declared fiercely.

Patrick was feeling worse by the minute, this wasn't supposed to happen. "I-I provoked you, I insulted and demeaned you. Fuck Ryan, I practically called your dreams stupid and pointless!"

Patrick had begun raising his voice, Gods know why. Gods know why he does anything he does.

"Pat... I know you were trying to push me away, you try to push Zara away too. That's what I really wanted to talk about... why?"

Pat flinched, and suddenly everything grew exponentially more wrong.

Air seemed to be vacant, suffocating the boy. In Pat's imaginenstion, he could see the clouds darken and spark with thunder. He could feel the earth quiver as it moved to shallow him whole, well... that part wouldn't be so bad right now.

"Gasp!"

"Well that's a plot twist if I've ever seen one."

Pat didn't even bother pushing the traitor back down, maybe they'd even help out if they felt nice today.

"Ha... no."

"You need this, Patty."

Fuck, there was no time to think or plan, Ryan was watching expectantly.

"I don't do th... Ok, yes I do." Ryan had only raised an eyebrow before Pat admitted it, no point lying now.

"I'm not waiting around for you to realize you can do better, is all."

Ryan looked only confused, too confused to think about Pat's words too hard, hopefully.

"It's obvious I'm only here until you find something better, and I'm fine with that."

Ryan's face turned to stone, expression unreadable.

"Dont look at me like that! I'm only saving us both the trouble! With Zara too, you both can do much better, so go do better!"

Stone hardened to steel.

"STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! I'M PRATICALLY HELPING YOU, IF YOU WON'T LEAVE ME YOURSELF THEN I'LL JUST DO IT FOR YOU!"

Now Patrick's pants were wet... when had he started crying?

The guarded expression shattered, and suddenly Ryan was upon him. Showing off his superior strength by wrapping those tree-trunks around Patrick and pulling him closer then ever before.

That was saying a lot, considering how often these famous Ryan-style hugs happened. Patrick was too mad and surprised and flustered to even blush.

"You are my best friend, practically my only friend. I couldn't do better then you, no one could, because you are the most amazing person to me Patrick.

If you ever are stupid enough to doubt that about yourself, then I will love you so hard that you won't have any room for that nonsense."

Now Patrick had time to blush, but he wasn't as flustered as he thought he'd be. He wasn't enjoying this because his crush mentioned love or something silly like that.

He was enjoying this because he was his best friends' best friend as well.

So feeling loved too much to think about stupid stuff, Patrick could only enjoy the moment.