(no subject)

[iniquiticity]

This was the sort of spell, Essek told him, you cast only in emergencies, or that you were dealing with people who, under no circumstances, could ever be seen, heard from, brought back, or considered again.

Even teaching felt exhausting. Caleb was accustomed to a spectacular timelessness during their study sessions, but this was not like that. This left his head heavy and his whole body weak. He understood gravity, but evidently not like Essek did. Not until now, when he was taught and could feel it weighing down each individual mote of him.

On this particular day, they were practicing gestures. For Essek it seemed effortless. He felt clumsy and unimpressive. A boy, and even in years he would be a child to Essek even after he passed on.

“Here,” Essek said. He came closer, from where he was watching, lifting himself onto his easy hover. Then he was behind Caleb, pressing his chest into Caleb’s back and taking Caleb’s hands in his. The warmth of his body pressed through Caleb’s spine, and it became an even more significant challenge to keep the gestures precise.

“Curl your fingers like this,” Essek was saying, and delicate drow hands were directing his. Essek was talking into his neck and Caleb could feel the air of his breathing and felt the warm pulse of his own body. “Then down, knowing the web of gravity comes from inside Exandria.” And those hands brought his hands down, and he felt the pull of magic and power. “Your fingers around the star.”

His hands were traced through the motions, thought without the reagent there was no result, as was expected. He found himself thinking less about the magic and more every place where their bodies touched and how close Essek’s mouth was to his skin.

“I think,” Essek was saying, softly, lips brushing him now, and he felt his breath catching, knew heat unrelated to magic, “That concludes our studying for the day.”