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They had been coming to Aeor for about a year when the equations finally clicked.
Each time, they teleported arm and arm into that room filled with ancient research, deep beneath the snow and ice covered earth. Holding hands wasn’t strictly necessary for the spell to work, of course, but neither of them argued.
Caleb enjoyed working with Essek. It brought him back to simpler times, studying with Essek in the Xhorhaus or completing equations with him and Veth in Essek’s tower. It was exhilarating to work with the man one-on-one, to experience the way his mind worked, mingle in his own ideas and create something new . Caleb would never tire of the feeling of triumph when they finally worked out a particularly difficult equation or found the solution to a nagging problem.
With time, what they were actually working on fell away. Sure, the time equations sat in front of him and the research he read was full of attempts at time travel, from the bitterest failures to the few elusive, dangerous successes. But it all became abstract, just theory , when he worked with Essek.
Their conversations came to the forefront -- brainstorming, talking out hypotheses and equations, debating on the nature of dunamancy itself. Caleb got lost in the tangle of his words, wandered through maps of the other man’s ideas in his mind. It was easy to forget his own goals when Essek Thelyss sat in front of him.
They would often stay in Aeor for days at a time, spending the night in Caleb’s tower. They ate meals together, talked to each other late into the night. Sometimes they just enjoyed each other’s company in silence, reading together in the library. Once or twice, they fell asleep together in front of the fireplace. Somehow their bodies would always gravitate towards each other in sleep.
Caleb thought often of waking up in Essek’s arms.
He found he desperately wanted to repeat the experience.
Caleb loved the Mighty Nein, and he loved adventuring, but he often found himself anticipating the end of their adventures. Anticipating his next foray into Aeor with Essek. Jester teased him about it mercilessly, of course, and the others gave him looks. He knew what they thought, and at first he thought it wasn’t like that.
He maintained it still wasn’t.
But then he would think about waking up in Essek’s arms, or the intensity of Essek’s gaze as he discussed dunamantic theory, or the shine of his smile when they finally made a breakthrough, canines flashing in the corners of his mouth. The way sometimes Essek’s eyes might linger too long on Caleb’s lips, the way his own eyes definitely lingered too long on Essek.
Over their many months together, the tension between them had melted, and another one built in its place. But it was different, hotter and slower, with the intensity of burning coals. It seemed to churn within him, stirred with every lingering glance, every brush of their fingers, every thought of Essek curled up against him in the night.
He should’ve been focusing on their studies, on the nature of time, on finally, finally , having the chance to fix everything. Jump back in time and fix the past, make it better.
When the final equation clicked and suddenly, inexplicably, the spell was finished and everything Caleb had ever hoped for was proven possible, he should have been elated. His heart should have soared with the possibilities before him. He should have jumped from his seat and cried, he should have felt something, anything, other than the sinking of his heart and the anxious clench of his stomach.
After a year, it was done. They had done it.
And yet all Caleb could do was frown, staring down at the final page of their equations, consumed by something deep within him that wanted to take everything they’d worked for and toss it away.
He had imagined this moment so many times before. But it never went anything like this. In all of his imaginations, he’d never felt… defeated. That was the only word for that clenching in his stomach and the crushing weight on his shoulders that seemed to grow heavier and heavier the longer he stared at the page. The longer he considered what it meant. Really considered .
Before, it had been a pipe dream. An impossible hope to keep him going, give him enough energy to open his eyes in the morning and fight .
But now that it was real… Caleb wasn’t sure he wanted it.
“--Caleb?”
He blinked, realizing Essek had probably been talking for a while, and looked up.
The other man smirked. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”
“It’s done, Essek.”
His face fell. “... What?”
“Come look,” he said numbly. “I’m pretty sure. You should run through it, you’re still much better at all this than I am but… I’m pretty sure.”
Essek walked forward, toward the mound of pages on the table in front of Caleb, his feet clicking lightly against the ground. Caleb savored every sound, knowing what it meant. Knowing the trust Essek put in him, the comfort and ease he showed in Caleb’s presence, his poised facade absent.
And then he started reading.
Everything seemed to fall away from Essek when he read. It was like Caleb could see his mind transported to another world, and suddenly the drow was unconscious of all that surrounded him. His curled white hair fell into his eyes, his lips parted slightly as he concentrated. His shoulders locked in place, like he was gripped by suspense, waiting with bated breath for the outcome of an epic tale. His eyes flicked like dancers across the page, and Caleb could practically feel the gears turning in his head before he blinked and looked up.
“Oh.”
“... Ja.”
“So that’s it then?” He frowned, looking back down at the papers, his finger tracing the lines of equations.
“Well, we would have to test it. But the theory checks out, it would just…”
“It would be a gamble,” Essek sighed. “You remember the story I told you? Of the mage who came back from time travel and crumbled into dust?”
“Ja, I remember. He probably traveled too far back and unmade himself. Or changed events in a manner that led to his death.”
“It’s unpredictable.”
“... Ja.”
“But we’ve been through this.” Essek looked up, meeting his gaze. “Small changes at first, moving a chair across the room, something like that.”
Caleb just nodded and looked away.
“Light, we just… We made time travel possible, you and I.” Essek laughed harshly, an accidental sound that seemed to slip past his lips. “I didn’t think it was possible. We’ve made history. We-- we could change everything.”
“Ja, we could.”
“It doesn’t-- suddenly, it seems so real.”
“It is real.”
“Yes, but-- Fixing my mistakes, undoing my collaboration with the Assembly was a fool’s hope. Now it’s possible, it’s real, and I…”
Caleb looked up. “What, Essek?”
Essek closed his eyes and said, whispered, “I’m not sure I want it.”
It was like a dam broke inside of Caleb’s chest, like a taut string finally snapped. Relief washed over him in waves, and Caleb didn’t know why . He should want this too -- he could see his parents again, he could keep them alive, he could keep Astrid and Eodwulf from losing their souls, keep Bren from losing his.
He wanted to want it, but--
“There is an obvious progression of events if my past self doesn’t give away the beacons. That progression doesn’t start the war, at least not immediately, but… it also doesn’t involve all of you.”
“Essek…” he whispered.
The wizard looked away, eyes meeting the ground. “I know it’s selfish of me. My life is full of selfish mistakes. But when I imagine my life without you -- all of you -- in it, I…”
Caleb smiled sadly. “You know, I didn’t used to believe in fate. I used to think that if this life was what fate had in store for me, that if fate intended me to suffer the way I’ve suffered, then… well, that’s not a very nice world. It wasn’t a world I could believe in.”
Essek nodded, still not meeting his gaze.
“Then, I met the Nein, and things started shifting. The strings of fate moved before my eyes, but I couldn’t see them. Not then. But I could feel that something was different. I think I was supposed to meet them, I think I was supposed to fix all the things we’ve fixed -- Tharizdun, the war, Lucien, all of it. And… I think I was supposed to meet you.”
Finally, Essek met his gaze, eyes shining. He smiled sadly. “But if all of this was fate, weren’t we meant to discover all this? Maybe we’re supposed to go back and fix everything.”
Caleb shook his head, stepping forward. “We can’t know . Trying to make things right could just make everything worse. Just breathing in the wrong place at the wrong time could set off an uncontrollable, unpredictable chain of events… Perhaps it’s the coward's way out, but I don’t think this is what we need.”
Essek moved closer. “What do we need, then?”
They were so close, too close. Too close for Caleb to think of anything else. His eyes brushed over the other man’s features, taking in everything as if it were new. A masterful painting he’d never seen, but had to memorize or else it would disappear from memory.
“Each other,” he whispered.
Caleb didn’t know how it happened, but one moment, Essek was reaching up tentatively to cup Caleb’s cheek, and the next Caleb’s lips were on him. The kiss was soft and slow, unhurried. Those burning coals inside his chest seemed to catch flame, but it was a slow burning fire -- intensely hot, but beautiful and languid. After all, they had all the time in the world.
When they broke apart, Essek smiled up at him, his eyes sparkling softly in the dim glow of the lab.
“Light, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
Caleb chuckled, pressing his forehead to Essek’s. “Same, Schatz .”
Essek caressed his cheek softly with his thumb, eyes wide. He kissed Caleb one last time and the fire burned a little brighter, a little faster, with the hunger latent in the movement of his lips, his tongue .
When they came up for air, Essek laughed softly. “What should we do with all of this?” He gestured with his hand, eyes not leaving Caleb’s face. “If anyone else were to find this research… it would be disastrous.”
“Ja, you’re right. I think there’s only one thing we can do.” Caleb lifted his hand, small flames licking up his fingers.
Essek sighed. “A year’s work… seems such a shame to burn it.”
“There will be other projects.”
“Other projects?” He grinned, canines just visible at the corners of his smile. It was one of the most beautiful sights Caleb had even seen. It would be a shame to never have seen it. “I like the sound of that.”