WAYFARER: CLAIM THE UNCLAIMABLE

When Sio opened his eyes again, the ceiling above him was made of dark timber, and for several seconds that was the only thing his mind could understand. The beams were uneven in a way that suggested they had once belonged to real trees rather than being grown into perfect architectural shapes, while late afternoon light slipped through narrow windows and carried the smells of damp soil, medicinal herbs and something simmering deeper inside the house.

None of it belonged to Central Nexus, which should have been reassuring. Sio tried to sit up anyway, and his body immediately reminded him that reassurance did very little for bruised ribs, strained shoulders, aching legs and the deep pressure still lodged behind his eyes.

He managed halfway upright before both arms began trembling beneath him. A hand pressed gently but firmly against his chest, and Mira’s voice reached him before he could make the poor decision worse. ”Don’t. I have spent enough hours watching you ignore your body for one lifetime.”

Sio stopped fighting the mattress and looked at her properly. Bandages covered both of Mira’s wrists where Vise’s restraints had rubbed the skin raw, her hair had been retied after someone cleaned the blood and grime away, and exhaustion still sat heavily beneath her eyes despite everything she had done to make herself look composed.

Someone had found her a soft wrap blouse in a muted green, simpler than what she normally wore at home and fitted closely enough around her waist to make Sio briefly wonder whose wardrobe Arch had been stealing from. The fabric fell loosely over her shoulders before narrowing along her figure, and with her hair partly loose around her face she somehow looked both more tired and more beautiful than she had any right to after what Vise had put her through.

”That sounded less like medical advice and more like a threat,” Sio murmured. Mira kept her palm against him for another few seconds before adjusting the folded blanket beneath his shoulder and answering, ”It can be both. Arch says nothing appears permanently damaged, which is apparently supposed to reassure me after watching you fight half a Nexus facility without actually being awake.”

Sio stared at her, and memory began returning in pieces that refused to arrive gently. Vise’s room came first, followed by the administrative floor, Fern and Caspian attacking their own people, his hands opening portals without permission and Arch looking directly at him as though someone else had occupied the space behind his eyes.

Then came the name Arch had spoken, and Sio felt his thoughts snag on it again. Silas had been dead since before Sio was born, yet Arch had spoken to him as casually as though his old friend had been standing beside them.

Sio’s attention dropped before he could ask about it, because Mira’s bandaged wrists were much easier to understand than whatever had happened inside his own body. ”Mum, your hands look terrible.”

”They hurt, but I can move them.” Mira deliberately flexed her fingers and rotated both wrists, even though the movement tightened her mouth for a second. ”Nothing is broken, the circulation is fine, and I have been informed repeatedly that they look worse than they are.”

”That sentence has never made anything look better.” Sio’s expression tightened as he watched her lower her hands, and the guilt he had managed to ignore while running from Central Nexus returned with more force now that there was nowhere to direct it.

”He did that because of me,” he said quietly. Mira’s expression hardened before he could push the thought any further, and she leaned forward to catch his chin carefully between her fingers.

”Vise did that because Vise chose to do it.” Her voice remained low, but the anger beneath it was far sharper than anything she had shown while sitting beside his bed. ”You do not get to take another man’s cruelty, put your own name on it and decide that loving you somehow made what happened to me your crime.”

Sio tried to look away, but Mira refused to release him. She studied his face for another moment before continuing, ”He wanted me terrified for you, and he wanted you terrified for me. That was why he kept us in the same room and made sure we could watch each other suffer.”

Her thumb brushed carefully beneath the bruise near his cheekbone. ”I am angry you went there, Sio. I am furious you nearly got yourself killed, and I may remain furious for an unreasonable amount of time, but I will not sit here while you decide that my pain belongs on your conscience because somebody else used you as an excuse.”

Sio swallowed, and the room blurred slightly before he blinked it clear. ”You make being lectured feel weirdly affectionate.”

”I have had nineteen years of practice.” Mira finally released his chin, and the faint smile that followed managed to soften some of the exhaustion around her eyes. ”You were an unusually difficult student.”

That earned the beginning of a smile from him, although the expression weakened when voices carried from somewhere beyond the room. Caspian appeared to be arguing about something, Fern told him to shut up, and Arch responded with an insult involving the structural integrity of Caspian’s skull.

Sio listened for several seconds before looking back at Mira. ”So everybody survived?”

”Unfortunately for Arch’s patience, yes.” Mira helped him swing his legs carefully over the edge of the bed while explaining, ”Fern has a cracked rib, Caspian insists his most serious injury is emotional, and Arch looks like somebody dropped a house on him. Apparently he considers that an improvement.”

Sio tested his weight cautiously and waited for his knees to decide whether they still belonged to him. ”Where exactly are we?”

”Another kingdom, well outside Thalassia. One of Arch’s houses.” Mira’s tone made it obvious that she had already asked enough questions about the subject to become irritated by the answers.

Sio looked toward the doorway and sighed. ”Of course he has more than one.” Mira gave him a look suggesting that particular discovery had bothered her too.

They made it into the main room slowly, and Sio understood almost immediately that this place was different from the temporary shelter in Thalassia. Books filled mismatched shelves along one wall, old maps covered another beside framed sketches of mountain routes and coastlines, and a broad stone hearth warmed a room crowded with small objects collected from places Sio did not recognize.

Someone had lived here for years rather than hiding here for days. That made the house feel stranger than another anonymous bunker would have, because Arch’s private life seemed to have quietly expanded beyond everything Sio had imagined in the short time he had known him.

Fern sat sideways on a wooden chair near the hearth with fresh wrapping around her torso beneath a torn shirt and open jacket. The damage from the fight had left one side of the shirt split near her ribs, revealing a narrow strip of toned waist whenever she shifted, while the surviving fabric clung more closely than usual across her athletic figure.

One long leg rested forward while the other remained bent beneath her, and the posture stretched the fitted fabric of her trousers over powerful thighs built for exactly the kind of movement Sio had watched her unleash against Central Nexus. Even injured, Fern somehow made sitting still look temporary.

Caspian had claimed the table, while Arch had somehow claimed nearly everything surrounding the deepest chair in the room. Bandages, three cups, an abandoned medical kit and the remains of a meal surrounded him, and a loose shirt made the wrappings around his ribs impossible to miss.

Sio stared at him for several seconds before Arch noticed. The old man squinted back and said, ”You look terrible.”

”I was about to say the same thing.” Sio stopped beside Mira and added, ”The difference is that I am nineteen and have excuses.”

Arch pointed vaguely at him. ”I said it first, which makes mine more valid.” Sio eased himself into a nearby chair and shook his head.

”You are old enough to have invented that rule.” Caspian looked up from the table with visible amusement before Sio had finished sitting.

”I would recommend avoiding an age contest with the man who removed somebody’s arm yesterday,” Caspian said. ”He has become insufferable about it.”

Arch gave him an offended look. ”Jealousy is unattractive.” Fern did not bother lifting her attention from the small communicator in her hand.

”He has mentioned the arm six times since waking up,” Fern said. Arch settled farther into his chair with a satisfaction that should not have survived his injuries.

”Seven. Accuracy matters.”

Sio looked at the battered old man and felt a small part of the pressure inside his chest loosen. The blood and bruises were still there, but hearing Arch argue over something so stupid made the room feel less like another place they were waiting to be attacked.

The front door opened before Sio could settle any further, and every person in the room reacted before whoever entered had taken a second step. Fern’s hand left the communicator while Caspian rose halfway out of his chair, and Mira shifted instinctively closer to Sio while Arch barely moved beyond raising his eyes toward the doorway.

A young man entered carrying a travel bag over one shoulder. He looked somewhere around Sio’s age, perhaps a little older, with a lean physique that suggested considerably more physical discipline than Sio had ever willingly imposed upon himself, and his travel clothes fit closely enough to reveal the compact strength beneath them without looking ornamental.

Sun-browned skin contrasted with dark hair pushed carelessly away from his forehead, while his expression belonged to someone who had expected an ordinary homecoming and instead discovered the aftermath of a small war. His gaze moved across Fern, Caspian, Mira, Sio’s battered body and finally Arch sitting at the centre of everything.

The young man closed the door behind himself with exaggerated care. ”Dad, I was gone for nine days. What kind of situation did you manage to create this time?”

The word reached Sio strangely, but Mira reacted first. Her head turned toward Arch so quickly that even Fern looked interested in what followed.

”Dad?” Mira repeated, and Arch rubbed two fingers against his temple as though he had suffered a fresh injury. ”Arch, you have a son?”

”This is not an ideal time for that conversation.” Arch’s attempt at authority failed immediately because the young man near the doorway looked between them and understood exactly what had happened.

”She didn’t know?” His disbelief made Caspian lean back in his chair with growing interest, while Arch’s stare warned his son against participating any further.

The younger man ignored it. ”That seems like a fairly difficult detail to forget.”

”I did not forget.” Arch shifted carefully in his chair and already sounded tired of defending himself.

Mira folded her arms while minding the fresh wrappings around her wrists. The borrowed blouse drew more closely across her chest and waist with the movement, sharpening the graceful line of her figure while she fixed Arch with a look that made his vague answer seem increasingly unwise. ”When exactly did you get married?”

”Some years ago.” Arch’s answer was so deliberately vague that even Fern’s mouth twitched.

”Some years?” Mira stared at him as though Vise’s torture chamber had somehow prepared her less for this revelation than anything else. ”You disappeared for years, occasionally arrived at my home without warning, ate my food, talked about Silas and somehow never thought to mention that you had a wife and child.”

”I thought about it,” Arch replied. ”I simply chose not to mention it.”

Mira’s expression became considerably more dangerous. ”That is worse.” Caspian settled more comfortably into his chair as though he had unexpectedly been given entertainment.

”I am suddenly feeling much better about my own decisions,” Caspian murmured. Fern gave him a warning look, although the amusement she was trying to hide ruined most of its effect.

Arch’s son quietly moved his travel bag farther from the centre of the room, apparently experienced enough to recognize when his father had wandered into a battle he deserved to fight alone. Sio watched the exchange until the word that had started it returned to him.

Dad brought another voice with it, and the memory stripped the amusement from Sio’s face. Arch had looked directly at him after cutting Vise’s arm away and said, ”Did you see that, Silas? I still got it in me.”

Sio lowered himself more firmly into the chair when his legs trembled and looked directly at Arch. He waited until the conversation around them quieted enough for his next words to matter.

”Actually, speaking of dads, you said something to mine back there.” Sio rested both forearms across his thighs, and the deliberately casual tone did very little to hide how carefully he was watching Arch.

Mira stopped moving while Arch’s expression changed by only a fraction. Sio caught both reactions and immediately disliked what they suggested.

”You called him Silas after you closed the door.” Sio rubbed one temple, giving himself another second before continuing. ”There is a small problem with that. Dad is dead, and unless Vise broke my memory along with everything else, he was not standing anywhere near us.”

Arch remained silent, which encouraged Sio to keep going. ”I heard people start hallucinating when they reach your age. Should we be worried about you wandering into forests and arguing with dead friends?”

Caspian immediately looked away, his shoulders shifting with the effort of hiding a smile. Arch gave Sio nothing remotely amused in return.

”My age has nothing to do with what happened.” His voice carried enough weight to weaken the joke, and Sio’s mouth tightened despite himself.

”That sounds suspiciously like something an old man with a hallucination problem would say.” Sio watched Arch’s face carefully, waiting for the reaction beneath the annoyance.

”Sio.” Arch said his name more quietly this time, and the humor finally drained from Sio’s face.

”Why did you say his name?” Sio asked. Arch looked toward Mira before answering, and that single movement told Sio more than the old man probably intended.

Sio straightened despite the pain in his back and stared between them. ”Okay. That was a terrible person to look at while trying to convince me there is nothing weird happening.”

Mira closed her eyes briefly while Arch exhaled and leaned forward as far as his ribs allowed. ”While you were unconscious, the way you moved changed.”

He chose each word carefully, which Sio found almost as unsettling as the explanation itself. ”You were using your ability instinctively in ways you have never demonstrated before, your stance changed, your timing changed, and something appeared on your face that I have seen before.”

Sio’s fingers rose automatically toward his cheek. Nothing remained there now, but the gesture drew his attention toward Mira when she shifted uncomfortably beside him.

”You saw it too.” Sio watched her carefully, and Mira took several seconds before answering.

”I saw something that looked like your father’s Scar.” She did not try to soften the statement, perhaps because there was no version that would have sounded ordinary.

Sio stared at her until his hand slowly dropped back into his lap. ”That sentence somehow gave me more questions than I had before.”

”I know.” Mira’s answer carried enough uncertainty to make him believe that at least part of her confusion was genuine.

Arch leaned forward another fraction and immediately regretted it when pain tightened his face. ”There are pieces of what happened that I do not understand well enough to explain without turning guesses into facts.”

Sio studied him in silence, because Arch could still hide things badly even when he was technically telling the truth. Something remained withheld behind the older man’s expression, and Mira’s reluctance only strengthened the suspicion.

”For the record, I hate when older people say things like that.” Sio eventually leaned back and accepted that forcing the answer now would accomplish very little.

Arch allowed himself the smallest smile. ”I hated it when older people said it to me.”

”You became one anyway.” Sio’s response came easier than the question had, and Arch gave him a tired shrug.

”Tragic development.” The tension loosened enough for the room to begin breathing normally again.

Arch’s son remained near the wall with his arms folded, and Sio noticed that the young man was studying him with considerably more interest now than when he had first entered. Sio caught his gaze and immediately wondered how much a stranger could reasonably understand from a conversation involving a dead father, a familiar Scar and someone apparently fighting while unconscious.

The answer was probably more than Sio would have preferred, but Caspian’s communicator vibrated against the table before either of them could speak. His expression changed within seconds of reading the notice, and Fern rose from her chair before asking what had happened.

”That was faster than I expected,” Caspian said. He turned the screen toward her, revealing that both of their Central Nexus credentials had disappeared and been replaced by ROGUE HELIARCH designations and active bounties.

Fern stared at the screen for several seconds before releasing a quiet breath. ”There goes the pension.”

”You joke, but mine was excellent.” Caspian scrolled downward while Mira came closer, and another bounty appeared beneath theirs.

Her photograph filled the screen, followed by Sio’s. He leaned over the edge of the table and stared at the number beside his own face.

”That seems excessive for someone who is technically unemployed.” Caspian looked at him without sympathy.

”You assaulted a senior Nexus operative, escaped containment, demonstrated several irregularities they cannot classify and travelled with Arch.” Sio pointed toward the notice as though the distinction he was about to make should matter.

”I did at least one of those while unconscious.”

”I am certain the bounty hunters will appreciate the clarification.” Caspian continued scrolling before suddenly stopping.

Arch’s notice appeared, and the number beneath his name dwarfed the others so completely that Caspian remained silent for several seconds. Fern leaned closer, Arch’s son raised one eyebrow, and even Mira looked toward the old man with renewed suspicion.

Sio looked between all of them. ”Is that considered a lot?”

Fern turned toward him slowly. ”Yes.” Arch merely shrugged, which somehow made the number more suspicious.

Sio pointed at the screen. ”Why are you worth that much?”

”People exaggerate.” Arch’s answer arrived too quickly to satisfy anybody, and Caspian looked at him with profound professional contempt.

”Nobody exaggerates that many digits by accident.” Arch appeared almost pleased by the criticism, but Fern had already reached for her jacket.

She pulled it properly over her shoulders, briefly drawing the torn shirt snug across her chest and waist before tightening the fastening over her injured ribs. ”We should leave before these notices propagate farther.”

Her tone had become practical again, and the small moment of humor disappeared with it. Sio watched her secure the jacket before asking, ”Leave where?”

Fern and Caspian exchanged a glance that lasted only a second but carried too much familiarity to have been invented during today’s disaster. Caspian began gathering the few belongings scattered across the table and said, ”We had a contingency.”

”For becoming internationally wanted?” Sio asked, but Caspian shook his head.

”For leaving Central Nexus.”

Sio blinked. Fern adjusted the strap at her waist before continuing, ”Today accelerated the schedule considerably.”

”You were already planning to quit?” Sio looked between them, and neither appeared particularly embarrassed by the revelation.

”We were considering something more permanent than resignation.” Fern glanced toward Arch, and a quiet understanding passed between them. ”There are places outside Nexus authority, people who built their lives that way intentionally, and we prepared for the possibility that we might eventually need somewhere else to stand.”

Sio waited for the explanation to continue, but Fern apparently considered what she had already said sufficient. ”Are you going to tell me where that is?”

”No.” Her answer came without hostility, and Caspian’s mouth curved slightly.

”I find secrecy considerably more enjoyable now that I am no longer filing reports about it.” He slipped the communicator into his coat while Sio looked from him to Fern.

”Does this mysterious place at least have a name?” Sio asked. Fern’s expression became almost amused.

”Yes, it does.”

”That was technically an answer.” Sio sighed and accepted that he was unlikely to win this particular conversation.

”You are learning.” Fern stepped toward him before leaving and rested one hand briefly against his shoulder, keeping her grip firm but careful around the injuries.

”Learn your ability properly.” Her tone had lost the amusement now, and Sio looked up at her more seriously.

”You saw what happened when your body started using it instinctively.” Fern’s gaze flicked briefly toward the cheek where the strange Scar had appeared before returning to his eyes. ”Whatever happened back there, you were doing things with your Claim that you could not do before. That difference matters.”

Sio nodded slowly because there was very little to argue with. ”Yeah. That part has been bothering me too.”

”And stop volunteering to be tortured.” Fern squeezed his shoulder once before releasing him, earning a tired attempt at humor from Sio.

”I will try to fit that into the schedule.”

”Move it near the top.” Fern stepped away while Caspian approached and offered Sio his hand.

”You attract an exhausting amount of trouble for someone I met because he walked into an examination room.” Sio took the offered hand.

”I thought that examination went pretty well.”

”You broke equipment.”

”It was emotionally fragile.” Caspian laughed softly and released him.

”Try to remain alive long enough for me to complain about you again.” The humor left Sio’s expression around the edges as he nodded.

”You too.”

Fern and Caspian left before evening, and there was no dramatic farewell waiting at the doorway. Arch simply watched them disappear beyond the tree line before closing the door, while the quiet they left behind made the house feel noticeably larger.