WAYFARER: CLAIM THE UNCLAIMABLE

By the time the last doctor finished checking the wound along Sio’s head, the ringing in his right ear had settled into a constant thin whine. It no longer swallowed every voice around him, but it sharpened whenever the pain behind his temple pulsed, turning ordinary sounds harsh and distant. Mira remained restrained across the room and had barely taken her eyes off him since he woke. Whenever one of the doctors touched his head or adjusted something against his chest without warning, her fingers tightened around the arms of the chair, and Sio could see how much effort it took for her not to start pleading with them again.

The oldest physician reviewed Sio’s vitals one final time before turning toward Vise. Whatever effort he had made earlier to keep the situation professional had worn thin. ”He has a concussion, blood loss from the initial injury and enough neurological stress that I want him observed before anyone decides he needs more questioning. He is stable right now, but that word stops meaning much if you keep adding trauma faster than we can treat it.”

Vise stood several paces away with the diagnostic report resting loosely in one hand. ”Is he dying?”

The physician’s expression hardened. ”No, he is not currently dying, and I shouldn’t have to explain why that is an absurd threshold for deciding whether someone can tolerate more injury.”

”Then you’re finished.”

For several seconds the doctor looked prepared to argue anyway. His attention moved toward Mira, then returned to the blood dried through Sio’s hair before whatever authority Vise carried finally won. He shut down the diagnostic projection with considerably more force than necessary and removed the last sensor from Sio’s neck. While packing the equipment, he leaned closer and lowered his voice. ”The ringing may linger. If it becomes substantially worse, your vision doubles, you start vomiting or you find yourself unable to focus on where you are, tell someone immediately. I don’t care who is speaking to you when it happens.”

Sio looked past him toward Mira. ”You could untie my mother before you leave. That would probably improve several things you’re currently measuring.”

The doctor’s hands paused over the equipment case. Sio expected an institutional answer and received one, though the shame that crossed the man’s face made it clear he knew exactly how useless it sounded. ”I don’t have authority over the restraints.”

Sio had already known that would be the answer. Hearing it still made him angry enough that he stopped looking at the man altogether.

The medical staff left together, with one Central officer following them while two remained near the entrance. The room became noticeably quieter once the diagnostic equipment disappeared. Mira watched the door close before immediately turning back toward Sio. She had been trying to hold herself together for him, but the effort was becoming increasingly visible. Her eyes were swollen from crying, strands of hair clung untidily around her face, and every few seconds she seemed to check his expression simply to reassure herself that he was still conscious.

”Don’t do anything stupid now that they’re gone,” she said, reaching for the familiar firmness she usually used with him. The tremor beneath it betrayed her almost immediately. ”You already proved you can ignore me while running directly toward something dangerous. I don’t need another demonstration.”

Sio managed to turn his head toward her without making the room tilt. ”I think the first demonstration was convincing enough.”

Mira opened her mouth to answer, but the platform beneath him moved before she could. Sio’s whole body stiffened as the metal supporting him began sinking into the floor without any visible mechanism beneath it. Stone seemed to yield around the edges, swallowing the platform until he rested only slightly above floor level. The restraints around his wrists shifted with the movement as well, loosening enough for him to flex his fingers while keeping him firmly secured.

Mira immediately pulled against her chair. ”Sio, please don’t fight it. Whatever this room does, don’t give it another reason.”

He stopped testing the restraint and studied the floor around him instead. ”I’m starting to think the room doesn’t need reasons.”

Vise approached while Sio watched him more carefully than before. The wall had already become a hammer without Vise touching anything, and now the floor had reshaped itself around the examination platform with the same effortless obedience. There were no obvious controls built into the room, no machinery responding to commands that Sio could identify and no gestures from Vise that seemed necessary for any of it.

When Vise stopped near his feet, he asked, ”Do you understand where you are?”

Sio shifted his head carefully against the platform. ”Somewhere Central probably leaves out of the public tour.”

Vise gave no reaction. ”This room belongs to me.”

That phrasing caught Sio’s attention more than the declaration itself. He looked toward the section of wall that had struck him earlier and then back toward Vise. ”You made it?”

”No.”

The answer arrived without explanation, and Vise had already turned away before Sio could decide whether another question was worth asking. When he started toward Mira, Sio reacted before thought could catch up. Both wrists pulled against the restraints, and pain shot through the injured side of his head when he tried lifting himself.

”You wanted me here. Talk to me.”

Mira shook her head sharply. ”Sio, don’t start challenging him while you can barely lift your head. Please. Whatever you think you’re accomplishing, I’m the one sitting here watching you bleed.”

”He kidnapped you to get me here.” Anger roughened Sio’s voice even after he stopped fighting the restraints. ”I don’t think being polite is going to make him reconsider anything.”

”Sio.” Mira’s voice cracked around his name, and that finally made him listen properly. ”I know you’re angry. I am too. But every time you decide getting hurt is worth it because you’re protecting me, you forget I have to watch it happen. I already lost your father. I cannot sit here and watch you keep throwing yourself toward the same ending as though what happens to you only belongs to you.”

The words took the strength out of Sio’s arms. He let them settle against the platform, the anger remaining but losing its direction. Mira was still crying, but there was frustration mixed into the fear now, the kind born from being forced to watch somebody she loved make decisions she could not stop.

Vise had stopped beside her chair. He did not touch her. He simply rested one hand against the back of it and looked toward Sio, letting the silence expose every reaction Sio had already given him. His breathing had changed, his fingers had curled against the platform, and his attention had abandoned almost everything except the distance between Vise and Mira.

”Show me your first Claim.”

Sio kept his eyes on him. ”Move away from her and ask me whatever you want.”

”I already asked.”

”You also have the examination results. You know they couldn’t identify it.”

Vise remained beside Mira. ”They know what their machines could read. I want to know what you can do.”

Sio breathed carefully through the ache in his head. Arch had warned him about this part, but Vise seemed to imagine there was some complete explanation hidden behind his silence. There wasn’t. Sio had spent only a few days with his first Claim, most of them reacting to danger, experimenting badly or discovering limits only after pushing into them.

”I know it has something to do with distance,” he said slowly. ”That’s actually about as much as I know about what the Claim itself is. I don’t know its Nature. I don’t know why some destinations feel easier than others, and I don’t know what decides the limits.”

Vise studied him for several seconds before telling him to demonstrate it. Sio kept his mouth closed, and the restraint around his left wrist tightened without warning. Pressure closed down against the joint, pain flashing through his hand and climbing into his forearm until his fingers opened involuntarily. His breath caught hard enough that the ringing in his damaged ear sharpened, and Mira immediately fought against her chair.

”Stop that. He answered you.” Her voice broke with anger and fear. ”He told you he doesn’t know.”

Vise continued watching Sio. ”He knows what it does.”

Sio clenched his jaw and forced his fingers to move despite the pressure. ”I know some things it can do. That isn’t the same as knowing what it is.”

”Then show me one.”

Sio stared back at him and refused. The restraint released abruptly, and blood rushing back into his hand brought another flare of pain. He curled his fingers toward his palm, trying to judge whether anything had been damaged while Vise moved around the platform as though the exchange had been no more remarkable than repeating a question somebody had failed to answer.

”Your examination confirms you’ve manifested it before. You have enough experience to reproduce something.”

That was deliberately vague, and Sio recognized the danger immediately. He did not know exactly what Central understood about his previous uses, which meant correcting Vise could reveal more than answering him. Silence was safer, so he let the statement sit without giving it shape.

Stone began rising beneath Sio’s right elbow slowly enough that he understood what was happening before the pain arrived. The restraint around his wrist shifted with the movement, keeping his arm fixed while the pressure beneath the joint forced it higher. He tried changing the angle of his shoulder, but the stone altered with him, following the movement until there was no comfortable direction left to escape into. Sio eventually stopped trying to adjust. The room was reacting to his attempts to relieve the pressure, and every small movement seemed to teach it how to hold him better.

Mira saw the tension climbing into his face and began talking before he could pretend otherwise. ”Sio, answer whatever you can without giving him whatever Arch told you to protect. You don’t have to let somebody tear you apart because you think following instructions perfectly matters more than staying alive.”

Sio looked toward her, and Mira regretted the wording almost immediately. ”I don’t mean tell him everything. I don’t even know what Arch asked you to hide.” Her voice faltered when Sio’s elbow rose another fraction, and more tears slipped free despite her attempt to steady herself. ”I’m asking you not to make surviving this secondary to proving you can keep a promise.”

He wanted to tell her Arch had a plan. He wanted to tell her the silence belonged to something larger, something that eventually ended with Arch reaching them and getting both of them out. The problem was that Sio did not actually know that. Arch had told him to protect the information and promised to handle everything else. Sitting inside a room that could bend itself around his body, that promise suddenly required much more faith than it had on the Thalassian coast.

Sio looked back toward Vise. ”I’ve used the Claim enough to know distance matters. Bigger openings hurt more, and reaching farther seems to make the strain worse. I don’t know why. I don’t know what decides the exact limit, and I don’t know why some attempts feel harder than others. That isn’t me hiding some complete explanation from you. That’s actually where my understanding ends.”

The pressure beneath his elbow stopped increasing. Vise absorbed the answer without showing which part mattered to him, then moved through other possibilities with the same calm patience. He asked about range, whether solid material mattered, whether Sio needed to see where he was reaching, whether objects could cross without him and how much of his own body could move before the strain became dangerous.

Some of the questions were broad enough to be guesses. Others came uncomfortably close to things Sio had discovered during training. He fixed his attention on a crack in the floor beside Mira’s chair and tried to make every question look equally meaningless.