Kaleo… Fionn cautioned. He could not hear Azure like he could Fionn. It was a specific bond between audean and audeas. Still, Azure shrank on Fionn’s head, even trilling sadly. The phoenix was Gannon’s audeas. His presence here suggested that despite a lack of memory, the bond the tirsai man had with the phoenix, at least, remained intact. Azure was such a common fixture in Kaleo’s life, always at his father’s side. Kaleo had never known a time for the pair to be apart. Where one went, so did the other. When one failed, the other was supposed to pick up the slack. Somewhere along the way, that system broke down.
Someone’s coming, Fionn said.
“Go,” Kaleo said to his audeas. “Go, I’m fine.”
He watched the chimera leave. Azure took flight into the air, pinwheeling upwards until he was nearly invisible among the night sky. The young avian scrubbed at his face and flopped back against one of the stunted palms, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his wings around himself to create a physical barrier.
“I can still see your head, you know,” Reven said, making Kaleo look up with his eyes. “You don’t blend in very well. Too much teal on brown.”
Kaleo smirked despite his foul mood.
“Don’t let Liam get to you,” the bard continued, settling in on the sand across from Kaleo. “He’s an ass to everyone.”
Kaleo remained silent, glancing up only when Azure returned to alight atop Reven’s head. The bard sighed, glancing upward despite being unable to actually see the phoenix perched on his crown.
“We discussed this,” Reven said. “My head is not a perch. - - Because I said so. And don’t call me that.”
Kaleo blinked, scrubbing at his eyes again. So, things were not as they were before.
“You have a phoenix?” the young avian hazarded.
“It’s a parrot,” Reven retorted in dull tones. “A very bright, annoying, little parrot.”
Azure pecked at Reven’s head in retaliation. Kaleo snorted a laugh when the bard winced and rubbed the sore spot on his head, kicking Azure off to the sand. Instead, the bird wandered over to Kaleo, preening the avian’s wings as if asking permission to enter the shield. Reven watched, Kaleo opening his wings enough to allow the bird to hop up onto his knees and then his head. It was something Azure would do often when angry with Gannon. Apparently, he did it when angry with Reven, too.
“He fancies you,” Reven said. “He should, I suppose. He claims to know you rather well, young Master Oenel.”
Kaleo looked at the bard, swallowing hard. He looked away just as quickly, pillowing his head on his arms and wrapping his wings about himself again. Reven sighed. He grabbed a handful of sand, pouring it from one hand to the other. Kaleo watched him, afraid to speak, afraid to even move.
“Liam is often taken by ludicrous paranoia. He’s convinced half the world is hunting him down. They may very well be, but, most of the world doesn’t honestly care enough to put in that kind of effort to find one red-headed idiot. However, loathe as I am to actually agree with the moron, he’s not entirely wrong, is he highness?”
Kaleo’s mouth dropped. Reven merely grinned.
“I’m aware of who the Oenels were,” Reven said. “I can’t remember who I am; doesn’t mean I haven’t read up on what’s happened in recent time. You don’t get far in my world without knowing current events. They’re supposed to all be dead but… here you are. You know who I am, don’t you?”
Kaleo swallowed again, throat dry and eyes stinging so much he shut them briefly just to make the stinging stop. Two fat tears rolled out and his nose suddenly decided to refuse air. He sniffled loudly then finally shook his head. “No. I don’t know you.”
His voice was hoarse with pent up emotion, but he continued all the same. “I thought I did. I was wrong.”
“Who did you think I was, then?” Reven persisted. The bard wanted to know, as desperate for information as Kaleo had been to find his father. But information would not change the fact that the bard could not remember a single sliver of his life prior to when Ajana found him; not a lick of it. Telling him would only complicate things. Kaleo felt Azure move about on top of his head, tugging at a few bunches of hair as if to encourage him to speak but Kaleo only shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter,” the avian said. “You’re not him.”
Reven sighed, leaning back on his hands. Kaleo looked at his toes, unable to actually look at the bard. In that moment, he wanted to be home. He wanted to believe what everyone told him, to mourn his father and finally let him go.
“Who is Gannon?” Reven asked suddenly after several minutes of silence.
“What?” Kaleo asked in return, lifting his head up off his arms. Azure flapped in response, hopping down to the sand between bard and apprentice.
“Gannon,” Reven repeated. “Who is he? The parrot said to ask you.”
Kaleo glared at the phoenix, sniffling again and rubbing his hand across his nose. To his credit, Azure made a strangled noise but hopped closer to Reven.
Kaleo sighed. “Gannon was my father. During The Fall… he took me and my step-mother to safety. We begged him to stay but … but he said he had to go back for my cousins and my aunt. He promised he’d be back. He broke that promise. We never saw him again.”
“You told me your parents were dead.”
“They are. My step-mother doesn’t count. She’s vile,” Kaleo practically growled. “What does it matter, anyway? Nothing I tell you will bring him back! He’s gone.”
Kaleo bit his tongue, hiding in his arms again. Silence followed, a heavy, uncomfortable silence that made Kaleo’s insides twist themselves up. His throat felt tight and tears saturated his thin sleeves. He tried not to sniffle too often, rubbing his nose on his sleeves before resettling
