Young Writers Society

Chapter 31.1: No Talk Me I Angy

They'd finally reached the snow. Bo stirred the pot of soup, watching as steam rose into the air, spinning in little tendrils over the fire. Everyone had gathered around to sit together, save for James, who was still within view but sitting at the edge of the firelight's reach, leaning against a tree.

Dinny was sitting beside Bo, looking into the bowl of soup and talking about foods from home, and how it smelled like a stew one of her friends used to make. Bo tried asking her about the ingredients, so he could try to recreate it himself, but she couldn't remember, since she only ever ate it, which just made Bo laugh.

Mel sat to Bo's right, sorting through their bowls and spoons, and her brother Raj sat beside her, knitting a little hat for Dinny. Robin had run off to make sure the area was clear, and likely, to shift comfortably since he still hadn't yet because of Dinny or James. If he didn't return in five minutes, Bo was going to go look for him. That was their usual protocol.

Dinny backed away from the pot a little and positioned her feet so they were facing the fire. Bo liked her. She was good company.

"So how long have you been here? At the guild?" she asked Bo.

"Oh, quite a long time," Bo said with a small grin. He lifted the spoon from the pot and taste-tested, briefly. Hmm. It needed more salt. "I want you to guess."

Bo caught Mel giving him a lookout of the corner of his eyes and he smiled. Dinny, though, didn't seem to notice.

"Uhhh... ten years?" she guessed.

Bo raised his brows and tilted his head to the side. "Not quite."

"Higher," Raj said, not looking up from his knitting.

"A lot higher," Mel said.

Dinny twisted her lips to the side in thought. "Thirty?"

Bo just nodded, trying not to grin too big. "Closer."

Dinny frowned. "But you don't look that old," she said.

Bo laughed. "Neither does Mickey!"

"But you're not a dragon!" Dinny retorted, then paused, looking up at Bo sideways. "...Are you?"

"Mickey told you about inheritors, right?" Mel asked, leaning forward a little to see Dinny past Bo.

"Uh, yeah, I think so? They're like, dragon apprentices until they become a dragon."

"Well, that's how it's supposed to work," Mel said. "Ideally."

Bo's grin faded a little, and he added more salt to the soup.

"That was before the calamity and everyone started hating magic," Raj said.

"That's a little oversimplified," Mel corrected. Raj rolled his eyes at her. "No one knows why the dragons disappeared and went into hiding."

Dinny nodded slowly.

"Is Mickey the only one not hiding?" she asked.

"Technically, he is still hiding," Raj said.

Mel nodded. "Hiding from humans, at least."

"And we don't know if the dragons are... hiding, per-se," Raj said, a little more hesitant.

Bo stirred the soup a little more slowly. The smell was rich and strong. It was about ready.

"Mickey doesn't talk about it much," Bo said carefully. "He said the role of dragons on Nye had been changing for a long time, and when the calamity happened, it surprised all of them too. I think... dragons felt they had to take responsibility for it, even though they had just as little control over it as everyone else did."

He paused, hanging the ladle on the edge of the pot for a moment. Mel was ready to hand him a bowl and a spoon, and he nodded. He picked it back up and poured a bowl, which he passed to Dinny first.

"I don't know, really," he said. "The remaining first dragons are all entering their last years. Svida and Ivar are some of the oldest, and well, Mickey last heard from Svida maybe fifty years ago. I think... I don't know. Mickey said most of the other dragons found their inheritors and took them under their wing for some dozen years before passing their magic, and passing on. But it sounds like something happened with Clandestine and I think it affected Svida. There can only be one inheritor at a time, so I think the delay in finding her might've started to wear on her. Svida's the oldest of all the dragons remaining. Jord, the previous earth dragon, passed a while ago. And I don't know about Ivar. I... I've been trying to find him for years, but for some reason, my connection to him always feels fuzzy. Mickey says it might just not be time, but I can't but help feel like something's wrong..."

Bo sighed. All the more reason to save Clandestine as soon as they could. He handed another bowl to Mel, which she handed to Raj.

A shadow approached out of the trees, and Bo caught it the moment just before Robin shifted back into his human form, and walked into the camp.

"We're clear," Robin said, hurrying to join them around the campfire. Bo poured him a bowl and he took it eagerly. Bo served Mel and then poured two more bowls. There was still James.

Bo and Mel made eye contact, silently communicating. Mel had brought James his meals yesterday. Today it was his turn.

It had been three days so far. They had at least two more ahead of them, and they were moving as fast as they reasonably could. They needed to sleep, and they needed to eat, and the horses needed all of those things too. But they'd been hurrying.

In those three days, James had only said maybe a few sentences, and that was it. Sure, some people were just like that, but James's silence was very loud. Something was going on in his head - probably a lot was going on in his head - and he just wasn't saying anything. Bo knew how agonizing that could be.

Bo stood up with a huff, with a cloud of his breath coming out of his nose. With two steaming bowls in hand, he got up and weaved past the others, parting from the warmth of the fire and into the shadows.

Behind him, the others started to talk again, which Bo was thankful for. It created a little blanket of sound in the background. A small form of privacy.

James didn't move or look up to acknowledge Bo at first, so Bo just stood there, offering the bowl of soup quietly.

Finally, James tore his gaze away from some indeterminate point in the forest and looked to the soup. For a moment, Bo wasn't sure he was going to take it, because he looked at it for what felt like (comparably) a really long time until he finally took the bowl and gingerly held the spoon sitting in it so it didn't slide around.

"Thanks."

Bo smiled and nodded, and sat down next to him, and started on his own soup. James hadn't started on his yet and just held it near his face. He must've been letting the steam warm his face. It was a nice feeling, letting it thaw your nose and cheeks a little.

They sat for a bit, in silence, aside from Bo's occasional slurp of his soup. James had finally started on his too. James was about halfway through when he stopped and looked at Bo.

"I don't want to talk, you know," he said.

Bo looked at James innocently.

"I didn't say anything," he said, with his mouth half-full of soup.

"Yeah, but you were thinking it."

Bo raised his brows and his shoulders in unison swallowed, and grinned. "I didn't know you could read minds."

James narrowed his eyes at him. "I can't read minds. I'm just not stupid."

Bo laughed. James held his glare for a moment before half-rolling his eyes and returning to his soup. More silence followed as the two of them continued to eat, and the warm soup filled their stomachs.

When they both had finished, Bo stayed there, and James didn't move. Bo could hear the others back at their camp packing things away, setting up their tents, and turning in for the night, but he didn't get up.

Normally, he would help with those things - but this was beginning to feel like a test of patience. James had held his silence for a while now, and though it wasn't a game, because it was clearly for very real reasons and not just petty competition, Bo did want to rise to the challenge. He didn't have to talk to fill the space, and he didn't think James wanted him to.

Everyone back at camp was in their tents. The fire was dying down. It was just James and Bo, sitting in what was quickly turning into the dark.

And finally, James broke first.

"You should go get ready," James said lowly.

Bo shrugged. "I'm taking first watch, so I need to be up anyway."

James glanced at him, then looked away. "...I knew that."