Lucien Whitmore's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Lucien Whitmore had rehearsed the sentence for three days, and he still could not say it. All he wanted was one partner. One person who would fight beside him and not flinch at his white eyes or his silence. But every time a stranger looked his way, his throat closed like a fist. So he came to the guild hall instead, where he thought he could belong without speaking. Stained glass threw blue and purple light across the stone floor. Adventurers clustered at long tables, trading maps and boasts. Lucien pressed his back to a pillar and watched them. He counted six groups. None had an empty seat. A notice board hung near the door. He drifted toward it, glad to face wood instead of faces. A posting read: "Cellar overrun. Two mages needed. Apply within." His hand rose to the paper, then stopped. To apply, he would have to talk to someone. He stared at the words until they blurred. His fingers found the small white crystal at his throat and turned it. He could light a whole room without a word. He could not ask one question. "You've read that line about ten times." Lucien turned. A young man leaned against the board, arms crossed, grinning. Brown hair fell across his forehead. Freckles crossed his nose. Faint blue light crackled along his sleeves, then faded. His gray eyes moved over Lucien's white ones without a flicker of fear. Lucien opened his mouth. Nothing came. His face went hot. "Kieran," the young man said, and stuck out his hand. "That posting wants two. I'm one. You look like the other." Lucien did not take the hand. He couldn't. His whole body had locked. Kieran waited, hand out, patient. The grin softened. "Rough crowd, huh," Kieran said quietly. He glanced at the loud tables, then back. "I hate walking up to strangers too. I just talk over it. You don't have to." He lowered his hand. Instead he lifted his palm and let a thin blue spark dance across his fingers. A small trick. An offering. Lucien understood. He raised his own hand. Light gathered in his palm, soft and white, and rose into a small floating orb between them. It lit both their faces. Kieran laughed, delighted. "Now that's a partner." Lucien's throat loosened a crack. The word came out small and rough, the first he had spoken all day. "Lucien." Kieran heard it like it mattered. He pulled the posting off the board and folded it into his pocket. "Come on, Lucien. The cellar won't clear itself." Lucien followed him toward the door. He had not fixed his silence. But for the first time, someone had stepped past it and asked him to come anyway. That changed everything he thought he needed.