12th of Ymiden, 721 - Home, Scalvoris Town
The door closed behind them as Kori'än exited the house, looking at Aokan as the young boy practically bounced on his feet. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the sigh inside. Spending the night out in a warm night of Ymiden, doing nothing but... In fact, Kori'än wasn't even sure what they were supposed to be doing. Counting stars? Making wishes? Something about it. He leaned against the cold stone wall, lips pressed together as he looked up at the quickly darkening sky. Laneey ― lucky girl ― had remained inside, not needing to partake in this particular tradition. So, for the first time in what felt like forever, but was, in fact, no longer than twenty days, probably, Kori'än was truly alone with his younger half-brother.
Was he supposed to say something?
If he were, he supposed that was too bad, because he didn't, instead focusing on his breath to keep himself from saying something he would end up regretting. It seemed like the only constant in their lives ― Aokan being excited about something until Kori'än went and threw a bucket of cold water with his words. He never really regretted his words, exactly ― he never said anything he didn't mean, and what he did say was what he thought was the truth. Sometimes, hearing the truth was painful, but it was better than living a lie. What made that unpleasant feeling in his stomach appear was how disappointed Aokan could get, almost as if he was missing the point altogether.
And perhaps he was.
This was all too complicated. He was already tired, and they hadn't been outside for even a break. Why did it feel like every single interaction was a chore? And more than that, why hadn't he just left, go on about his own life? Objectively, Aokan wasn't his responsibility. It was a promise he had made to his mother, but he didn't even know if she was still alive. Not that he liked to think about that. So why didn't he leave?
"Look, Kori, there are so many stars!" Aokan's voice cut through his thoughts, and Kori'än blinked, turning to look up at the sky. It had darkened already, too quickly, and he frowned, slightly worried at how lost in thought he had become to completely lose track of time like this. "This will be easy!"
"Wha―" his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat briefly, ignoring his brother's curious eyes turning in his direction, "What are we supposed to be doing?"
"Make a wish! And a prayer to Xiur. I think." Great. Aokan 'thought'. Just like his brother to get incomplete information. Well, it wouldn't do any harm to entertain his brother, he supposed. "Who is Xiur?"
"An Immortal."
"Of what?"
"The moon? The stars? The sky? I don't know." The name wasn't strange nor new, Kori'än probably had heard it from somewhere, but he couldn't remember the Immortal's domains.
"Hmmm," Aokan drawled out, chewing on his lower lip in thought. "Well, can we make a wish to him without knowing?"
Kori'än opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again, frown deepening. Could they? Well, certainly, but whether the Immortal would answer their prayers or not... Trying it out wouldn't hurt, though, so he shrugged, the gesture awkward as he was still leaning against the wall. "Maybe. You can just try to do it."
"Then, I'll wish for a family." The words came so quickly that Kori'än almost missed their meaning, but he caught it, and he faltered, fingers curling in fists, nails pressing against his palms to keep his face straight. Those words weren't supposed to matter. They weren't supposed to stir anything inside of him at all. Letting outside emotions wash over him was a recipe for disaster, and if he wanted to do what he needed to do, Kori'än had to keep focused. And yet, there he was, feeling something heavy in the pit of his stomach, something akin to nausea wash over him. Not similar to the regret he was growing used to feeling, though.
"Kori? What's your wish?" Aokan nudged at him, and he took a step to the side to escape the bony finger.
"I don't have anything to wish for." Well, that wasn't precisely the truth, now, was it? Still, he wasn't about to share his inner thoughts with his younger brother. That didn't seem the right words to use, either, though, because Aokan's face turned into a sad frown.
"Everyone wishes for something!" That didn't seem like what the other was initially planning to say, but, honestly, Kori'än wouldn't press.
"How do you know that?"
"I just do!"
Despite the mood, Kori'än huffed, amused, rolling his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall, facing the sky. There really were so many stars tonight. "Well, I don't." He knew a complaint was coming, and he knew they would stay on this back and forth forever if Aokan had anything to say about it, so he quickly added, "Isn't Laneey waiting for you?" Kori'än didn't even need to look at the other to picture the pouting.
"Urgh, fiiiine," Aokan drawled, opening the door and looking back at Kori'än. He just made a small motion with his hand, and his brother's pout deepened. Still, the boy finally re-entered the house, closing the door behind himself and leaving Kori'än alone.
