"Have you breached the surface before, Viren?" Aaravos asked, projection floating nearby.
Viren sighed, just finished putting kelp strips into a volcanic cave, "Why do you ask?"
"You did not know what stars looked like," the cecaelia arched a brow, daring the mer to say otherwise.
"Perhaps I have only breached the surface during the day," the mer snorted, going to collect sea grass and sand.
Aaravos hummed, smirking as usual, "It is night now."
"And?" Viren asked, already irritated he was out this late due to a certain distraction, "I have better things to do than breach the surface for your entertainment."
"You do not," the cecaelia chuckled, shifting to stay in the other man's line of sight, "Though I understand - breaching the surface for the first time can be daunting."
"I already said-" the mer stopped, closing his eyes and taking a breath. He looked up from what he was doing to glare.
Aaravos smiled too innocently.
"Very well," Viren huffed, setting his bag aside, "If it will make you less of a nuisance, I will look at the stars."
"I doubt you will ever consider me less of a nuisance," the cecaelia chuckled again, "But I will certainly allow this matter to drop."
The mer sighed, looking up at the surface - so near, much closer than he'd ever been before. With another glance at Aaravos, he swam straight up before he could even think about being nervous.
Except, at the last moment, his body stopped on its own, a lump of fear in his throat.
Mer aren't meant to breach the surface, whispered a voice very like his father's in the back of his mind - a voice he thought he'd long banished, Just stay where you belong.
Viren closed his eyes, wondering how things would have been if he'd listened back then. Most people found it hard to believe he was a rebellious child - but back then, he'd been so sure that he was meant for greater things than a simple weaver. Where had the confidence to run away from home and find a magic teacher gone, when he'd come so close to achieving everything?
"A wise choice," Aaravos's silken voice cut through his thoughts, his spectral body twisting around the mer, "Breaching at the pace you were swimming before would have likely caused you to go into shock. Which, of course, you knew."
"... of course," Viren huffed, opening his eyes and glancing at the carnivore before forcing his thoughts back and swishing his tail only once to slowly break through the surface of the water.
He gasped - partly because the gills on his neck took a moment to slide closed, and partly because…
Because it was like an entirely different ocean above him, darker, and yes - there were the shimmering lights that matched the ones on Aaravos's skin. But there were swirls of color - pinks and purples cutting into the rich blue. And the moon - or what must be the moon, from what he knew of it. Shining brightly in that vast ocean of stars.
"You are welcome," Aaravos said, astral form lounging above the water as easily as it did in it. The carnivore was stretched to almost his full length, tentacles curling and uncurling at the ends as he rested his chin in one hand. He was watching Viren with his usual amusement, though there was something… gentler about it.
The mer snorted, and cleared his throat before cautiously attempting to speak, "It's… alright… I suppose."
"Is that why your jaw was still in the water?" the cecaelia asked.
Viren sunk down, letting his neck gills flare open again to breathe more naturally. Still, his eyes kept finding new things to focus on in the vast - sky, yes, this was the sky. He elected to ignore Aaravos, instead letting his gaze rove as it was wont.
The carnivore said nothing for a time, before gazing up at the stars himself, "Ah, but what I would not give to see the stars for the first time again myself. Those of us born with a surface arcana are drawn here, to connect with our element in the most visceral of ways."
The mer pushed up a bit, neck gills closing again as he watched the cecaelia.
Aaravos reached both of his right hands towards the sky, a soft smile on his face, "The stars may paint my skin, but I wonder what it would be like to grasp their warmth within my hands."
"Their… warmth?" Viren asked, voice still strained and breathy.
The cecaelia nodded, reaching out with all four arms now as he seemed to cradle the sky above him, "Perhaps, to you, the stars appear cold and distant - lonely points of light at the bottom of a sea far vaster than our own. But each one is a flame - burning so large and so brightly that even across a space so far, we can still enjoy their light. Like far off friends sending us a message to tell us we are not alone."
The mer blinked at the carnivore a few times, before looking back up at the sky, "That is… a sort of… comfort," he paused, then added, "For you."
"You cannot relate?" Aaravos asked, letting his arms fall back to his torso and turning his head to look back over at the other man.
"How… could I?" Viren asked, looking away. Mer did not have a connection to Primal Sources, after all.
The cecaelia's typical smirk returned as he drifted closer, looking at the mer upside down. He reached out with his upper set of arms, cradling Viren's face between his hands much as he had the sky before, "Are we not like stars to each other?"
The mer met the gaze, but frowned, unimpressed. Still, he didn't move away - at least, not immediately.
It seemed to encourage Aaravos to continue, "We cannot touch, for we are far, but we are still able to see each other. Perhaps the distance is not as insurmountable as the stars, but the loneliness remains the same."
Viren sighed, taking one last look at the sky above - and a shorter look back at the carnivore - before flipping back to submerge and swim down - ignoring the warm feeling in his chest the words stirred. When the cecaelia's form was swimming next to him again, the mer said, "I am surprised you would admit to being lonely."
"Everyone gets lonely," Aaravos said, smiling secretly, "There is no shame in it."
"Do you even have shame?" Viren asked, retrieving his bag to finish collecting sea grass and sand.
"I believe you carry enough for both of us," the cecaelia replied, floating laxly nearby.
"For someone who claims they want me to like them," the mer said, "You don't seem to make much of an effort."
"Ah, but I do not wish for you to like me," Aaravos replied, "I wish for you to know me - and for you to know me, I must be myself - as disagreeable as you may find it."
"Why?" Viren asked.
"Because I like you, little fish," the cecaelia said easily, "What other reason do I need?"
The mer did not believe such flimsy sentiment, but he had learned better than to argue against it directly, "You know almost nothing about me."
"That is your own doing," Aaravos smiled, purposefully missing the point.
"... I didn't leave a mate," Viren said, supposing the information was harmless enough, "At least, not when I was exiled. We divorced long before then."
"Divorced?" the cecaelia questioned, arching a brow.
The mer looked over, and it only took a few moments for him to surmise the carnivore genuinely did not know what it meant to divorce your mate, "We split up."
"Mates do not 'split up,'" Aaravos… frowned, considering.
"Yes," Viren said, pulling grass out a little harder than necessary, "They do."
"But… why?" the cecaelia asked.
"Many reasons," the mer sighed, "For me, my mate and I… we became different people over time. People we no longer liked the way we did when we first met and got together."
A person she no longer liked, Viren corrected to himself.
Aaravos mulled over this, for once keeping his own council as he digested this new information.
It took the entire swim back to the Sanctum before the cecaelia shared his mind.
"Perhaps you did not truly know each other," the carnivore suggested, though it was… open. Waiting for a confirmation.
"Perhaps," Viren replied tiredly, regretting bringing it up at all.
Aaravos pursed his lips, watching as the mer set the supplies aside. Viren could make the paste later, after he'd slept. He was suddenly so very tired, having yet another failure thrown back in his face.
The mer had been using one of the moss covered cubbies in the old dormitory hall as his bed, and slipped behind a makeshift curtain he'd fashioned. He faced the wall, , letting his body sink and relax.
A soft glow filled the space as Aaravos phased through the curtain, and leaned over the other man. With the same thoughtful expression, he said, "You did not grow to dislike your mate."
Viren sighed, closing his eyes, "No. I didn't."
"It was not Harrow, was it?" the cecaelia asked.
The mer snorted, covering his eyes with one hand and unable to fight the smallest of smiles, "No, it was not."
Aaravos hummed, projection settling behind Viren, and said, "Well, I am sure there are good reasons for this… divorce, even if it sounds strange. I have seen mates who grew to hate each other, usually because they thought they could overcome obstacles through love alone - how much better their lives would be if they were able to leave and find love anew."
"I am far past that," the mer sighed, then snorted again as he tucked his hand back under his head, "Unless you are attempting to volunteer."
"I would say attempt is the most apt word," Aaravos said slyly.
"What does that mean?" Viren asked, though he was quickly succumbing to sleep.
"I am sure you will figure it out, little fish," the cecaelia replied.
The mer grunted more in acknowledgement that he'd heard a response than understood it, giving into slumber.
Viren remembered little of the conversation the next day, other than a lingering suspicion that something important was said that he had missed.
Time passed so strangely in exile, with so little to occupy the mer's time besides his own treatment and talking with Aaravos. Which was… pleasant. The mer would never admit it to the man himself, but for all his complaints, Viren preferred the cecaelia's blunt honesty over the usual dance of politeness and niceties.
And so he had hardly realized six months had passed until he had unexpected visitors.
"I'm telling you, it's this way!"
Viren had been out collecting food - it was hardly challenging enough to be considered hunting - when the clear sound of his daughter's voice cut through the usual silence.
Aaravos's projection was back in the Sanctum - the cecaelia found the mer's food collecting boring, and for once said mer couldn't blame the other man. He was also thankful for the carnivore's absence as he swam to the edge of the kelp forest, peering out.
"I don't know," Soren frowned, looking out over the forest, crossing his arms, "I just don't see Dad staying in a kelp first - it's not really a good place for long term shelter."
"All I know is that my spell says Dad is in this area," Claudia replied, and held both arms towards the forest, "And this is the only place that makes any sense."
Viren swallowed around sudden emotion - why were his children here? Did it matter?
"I guess you're right…" Soren sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "Alright, no harm in checking, right?"
Claudia grinned, "That's the spirit!"
Saving them the trouble, Viren swam out of the forest himself, "Claudia? Soren? What are you-"
"Dad!" they said in unison, pushing him back a few feet as they bowled into him.
Claudia's eyes were shiny as she sniffled, looking up, "You're okay!"
"I knew you would be," Soren said, then cleared his throat and swam back a bit, "But, uh, Claudia was worried."
"You were worried too," his sister huffed, rolling her eyes.
"It's-" Viren had to clear his throat himself before he could speak, "It's good to see you. But-"
"Oh, oh!" Claudia backed up, tapping her nose, "You want to know why we're here!"
"Yes," her father replied, smiling at seeing the familiar habit again.
"We have a memory shard from King Harrow," his daughter replied, "And he agreed to let us bring you some more of your things while we delivered it!"
"That's-" Viren wasn't sure what he felt.
"It only took so long because the dumb sharks had to check we weren't bringing you any dark magic stuff," Soren said, then winced before asking, "Um, you haven't been-"
"No," his father replied, "My appearance is… the result of a treatment I learned of from the shelter I discovered."
"Oh, see, that makes sense," Claudia said, "You were right, Soren."
"I know," her brother said, puffing his chest up a bit - though he still looked at his father uncertainly.
Viren wished he didn't feel like he'd earned the scrutiny.
"What a touching reunion."