Simeon pressed his awareness into Halen, ignoring the way the other boy squirmed, his golden eyes flickering around Emiliaâs willbrandsmithing workshop in what was certainly a mixture of interest and discomfort. It wasnât difficult to see why he was uncomfortable with Simeon digging through his memories of the day before, each slice of Halenâs memories from the hours he had spent in Seerâikâtine tinged with so much love and adoration for Emilia that it was uncomfortable for Simeon as well.
Emotions were⊠difficult, for Simeon. It was perhaps part of why he fit so well with the black knots of their friend group. Some of them liked him backâhe and Rafe were
almost
friends, if not quite, while the triplets would never treat him with anything other than each of their personal brands of
kindness.
It was easy to connect with people who would never feel emotions the way the world thought they should; he didnât feel those emotions quite properly either. It wasnât the mixture of absence and obsession that drove black knots to be cold-hearted and yet brutal in their love all at once; rather, it was a confusion of
why
and
how
someone felt a particular emotion that filled Simeonâs mind.
Once, those questions of
why
and
how
had plagued him, his parents demanding
she
speak, demanding
she
not be overwhelmed by emotions and sensations and just about everything else that filled the world to near bursting. Emilia had never been like that. Emilia had always been the sort of person willing to explain her emotions to him, willing to talk through his own emotions and those that fell his way.
Emilia wasnât here right now to explain the love that Halen had for herâthe way his eyes had so continuously flown to her as they spent the day together. Simeon didnât think Halen would appreciate him asking her, even if she werenât currently cursing the world as she ran through the FalmĂer underground.
âAt least it isnât the sewersâŠâ
she had messaged earlier, letting him know that Halen would be by to pick up one of her more experimental willbrands on his way to grab a few things from her room. While willbrands often required training, she had also requested he pick one out for Olivier de la Rue.
âEven if it turns out to be useless for whatever is happening today, he should have one. Maybe a few of his students, too? There are a few who are more⊠reasonable.â
It had gone unsaid that Emilia was worried whether Olivier de la Rue was even aliveâworried whether he would even be able to use whatever willbrand Simeon picked out for him.
Still, he would find the most suitable willbrand for the lawyer, regardless of whether it ever left his hands for Olivier de la Rueâs. That was what Halen was helping withâwhy he was letting Simeon shift through his interactions with the lawyer: so Simeon could pick out a willbrand for him. It also likely why Emilia had asked Halen to pick up her things, rather than Simeon: she had set him up to be used for his memories, not even telling the boy Simeon would meet him at her workshop.
âAre we almost done?â Halen choked out, his cheeks an even darker shade than usual for all the blood rushing through him. The man really was quite flustered, and it took a few seconds for him to haphazardly sign out his question, the blush worsening under the stress of accidentally speaking to Simeon.
Simeon took a photo of him, sending it off to Emilia. Her cackling response came through a few seconds laterârunning through the underground, as smelly as it was, vents leading up from the sewers, was tedious; mostly, she was spending the time thinking about designing a better recon skill, most of the existing ones slow and requiring the user to stand still for an extended period of time.
âHe looks so bullied!â
she mused, and Simeon had to agreed: with the manâs watery eyes and blushing cheeks, with the shake of his jaw and press of his lips, Halen had never looked quite so bullied.
Simeon was rather proud of himself for being the one to cause the great Halen Mhrina to look so harassed.
âYes, we are done,â
Simeon replied, turning to look through the shelves of willbrands he and Emilia had created over the years.
Most of the shelved items were Emiliaâs creations, his own tucked away into drawers because even though he knew Emilia would never snoop into what he did in her studio without his permission, he had always felt odd about showing off what he designed to anyone, and the ones he was currently working on certainly werenât the sort he had wanted to explain just yet. Of the willbrands that lay scattered over the shelves that he had created, most were practice piecesâhis attempts to copy what Emilia or her willbrandsmithing master had designed. It was a good way to learn, and recently, he had been procuring old willbrands from thrift stores and estate sales and working on copying those.
Copying willbrands that he knew little to nothing about was much more difficult as he had no one to question on the techniques used, and had eventually come to suspectâand then knowâthat some of the willbrands had additional materials added during their creation to create more unique effects. When he had asked Master Shaw about whether adding anything extra to willbrands was possibleâthrough Emilia, as he had never met the man himselfâthe willbrandsmith had said no, not for anything other than aesthetics. Yet, Simeon had managed to create several willbrands with extra materials. Simeon also suspected Emilia hadnât quite believed her master eitherâalthough he also had a feeling it wasnât that she thought the man was lying, more that she thought he just didnât realize it was possible.
Still, regardless of his friendâs opinion on the matter, it was those willbrands he kept tucked away from her prying eyes. It wasnât that he didnât trust herâSimeon would trust Emilia with his most important objects and secrets, always knowing she would keep them safe. It was simply that Emilia was brilliantâthis star who was overwhelmingly talented in particularly everything her soul touched upon. If he told Emilia about his experiments, it wouldnât matter if he asked her to let him continue on without her help; she would let him do things his way, and he would figure out whether it was or wasnât possible to use other materials to augment willbrands. Then, he would tell her about it, and no matter how hard she tried, she would get this look in her eyesâa look at said she had never touched her fingers onto any experiments with willbrands and other materials, yet her mind had floated there, and every secret he had gleaned she had already guessed at.
Maybe, after acting as messenger between him and Master Shaw, she had already guessed at all those secrets. Maybe, during her travels with her father since, she had asked willbrandsmiths of other nations. Maybe, Emilia already knew everything about everything the universe over; maybe she didnât. Simeon didnât want to give her any hints to get there before him.
It wasnât that Emilia meant to do harmâif anything, he had seen her push down her interest in things her friends enjoyed often enough to know she was all too aware of how much her light could overshadow nearly everyone else. Still, despite her best efforts, Emilia was bright and vibrant and brilliant and Simeon just wanted a tiny thing for himself, silly as it was.
Now, though, his silly secrets were about to fall from the sky because it would be stupid to not bring the strongest of his willbrands with him to LĂŒshanânot when Emilia was clearly trying to tell them something far worse than she was saying was going on with her request that Halen bring her
that
willbrand. It would be stupid not to give out those willbrands he had created and tested and immediately thought
this would suit so-and-so.
If people died for his childish secrets, he would never forgive himself; there was a time for silly secrets, a time for the most life altering as wellânow was not the time for either.
âFor you. For Coral,â
he signed, holding out two willbrands to Halen.
âI do not know if you will want to try them while we are in such a situation, but you should have them in case.â
Silently, he turned back to the shelves, forwarding the testing and instructional information to Halen.
âFucking shit,â Halen muttered, the words slipping off his fingers as well, despite Simeon not looking his way, while a function translated the spoken words into text that floated gently over his mind.
Not for the first time, Simeon wondered if it would be prudent to have a function that translated signing he couldnât see into text as well. While there had been the occasional time over the last fifteen years where someone had signed at him while he wasnât actually looking, it was rare and generally rather unimportantâthe signing equivalent of someone speaking while another person was zoned out or listening to music through their Censor, as Baylor had once put it. Baylor was bad at not listening for both reasons, and there were times when things needed to be repeated to him multiple times.
In both cases, it was rarely anything so important it couldnât be repeated, and Simeon had never seen the Hyrat clone zone out while trainingâthere were times when zoning out could cause problems, even if the worst thing that could happen during the military-level training their class had partaken in was a few mild burns and their team losing the battle. In Simeonâs case, the people around him usually defaulted to verbal communication when in such situations, which were rare outside of training, their prank war, or playing games with each other. He didnât mindâthe point of the function that translated spoken words to text for him was so people wouldnât need to worry as much about speaking rather than signing. That said, he could never fully articulate the love and kindness he felt from every person who continued to sign to him, even knowing they didnât need to.
Still, as Halenâs few words had shown, there were always times when overwhelm caused those who primarily signed to him to speak aloud. At the same time, he had signed when Simeon wasnât looking, only the shift of the aether slotting into {Blissful Silence} telling him about it. If he tried, he could read what Halen said through the function that catalogued the world around him; it wasnât something convenient, however, and it would be far easier to have another function that could translate automatically for himâsomething he knew was possible, but Emilia had resisted programming, viewing their sign language as something that should stay out of Censors as much as possible. Simeon agreed that he didnât want their sign language going into the OICâs bank of information even if it had long ago
agreed
to never officially catalogue or translate itâit was bad enough when adults they didnât like managed to figure out parts of it, requiring those who used it to alter it so they could keep their secrets.
There had to be a middle ground, was the thingâsome way for a function to only translate based on what the user knew; some way to keep its translations from actually being read by the OIC. Emilia would know, if he asked, but she couldnât do anything where she was now, and Simeon couldnât shake the feeling that not being able to easily translate what was signed out of his sightâout of sight of anyone who knew the languageâwould be detrimental. Maybe not today, but⊠soon. It was an odd, niggling feeling that dragged him back to the feeling that had suffused him when he and Emilia had taken drugs from Mitine Dyn. It was a drag across his mind and soulâan urge that felt liable to pull his insides out if he ignored it.
Simeon did not want to ignore it. Better to deal with Emiliaâs annoyance that he had gone to Halen to create a function she had previously been resistant to bringing into existence than regret not asking when someone died because a hidden sign didnât reach someoneâs mind.
Ten minutes wasnât long, but back when they had been teenagers with freshly installed Censors, it had barely taken Emilia the night to program the first prototype of the function that lessened the strain of the world on his senses. Days later, she had been popping out functions for all of them, perfect and flawed and always needing modifications and updates because she was always pushing what she and Censors could do with the human mind, with hardware limitations, with the aether itself.
That had been nearly a decade and a half ago, and both Halen and Emilia were monsters. Simeon had seen them sit their butts down in the noisy Virtuosi Rigs of their school and pop up mere minutes laterâthe skew of time within the Virtuosi System meaning it was more than a handful of minutes for their brainsâwith new functions and skills to fuck with one another. If he asked⊠would Halen try to create such a function for himâfor all of them?
His former classmate was just like Emilia, so yes, probably, he would.
âHalen?â
Simeon asked, his query falling off his hands as the other boy watched and waited, nearly vibrating with excitement because despite the time crunch, he did want to do this.
Perhaps, in the end, Halenâs love for Emilia wasnât so odd. They were the same, and yet not. Someone so bright they risked burning the world, so bouncy they risked disappearing into the stars themselves. Someone with a gentle, unyielding light to push against the dark, only risking a burn across the world when nothing else worked, someone to be dragged along by anotherâs energy, overwhelmed and yet content to be pulled.
âYes,â
Simeon thought, watching Halen hustle over to the Virtuosi Rig set into the corner of the room, where Emilia did both her willbrand designs and codingâthe studio was reinforced, so testing skills was more suitable here than in her bedroomâ
âthose two do suit each other, even if together alone, something would be⊠missing.â
Eyes falling back over the memories of Olivier de la Rue Halen had shown him, Simeon went back to work picking out a willbrandâor maybe two?âthat would suit the lawyer, at least temporarily.