[center][abbr=#B8041A | Alt+0248 for ø][img]https://i.ibb.co/wY7GYz8/Kaspar-Header-2.png[/img][/abbr]
[hr][color=#B8041A][b]LOCATION[/b][/color][b]:[/b] Ersand'Enise
[color=#B8041A][b]INTERACTIONS[/b][/color][b]:[/b] Kaspar Elstrøm von Wentoft [@Wolfieh], mentions of Ayla Arslan [@Ti]
[hr][/center]
She wasn’t sure why anxiety prickled against her breastbone, but the feeling was persistent.

The lake water was calm at midday, perhaps a bit swollen from the heavy rain of the previous night. A small pack of students near its shores appeared to be making a game of getting close to the ornery goose that prowled the arboretum. One in particular was tempting the gods as he got bolder with every attempt, waving his fingers in Mallow’s face and laughing at the outraged honks and wing flaps that followed in reaction. On his fifth try, the goose latched onto the fingers and the youth yowled in pain, shaking his hand rapidly to try and dislodge the beak firmly attached to his hand. Of course, it didn’t work until Mallow decided it would, and Willa chuckled as he retreated to his friends, cradling the hand once bitten. 

He reminded her of a youth she’d once tutored, when she taught in groups before becoming the head tutor of the Elstrøm estate. Many children did, these days. But there was only one student of hers the older woman was concerned with today, as her silver eyes scanned the edges of the park, sighing to find no sign of the boy’s approach. 

It was not unusual for Kaspar to stay away for several days; in truth, they only lunched together every two or three days, and this was only the second day in a row he’d been absent. But something coiled in the tutor’s chest, hair standing on end against a threat she couldn’t see or understand, like some sixth sense that [i]knew[/i] this absence was different. 

There was nothing to be done for it, she told herself as she gathered her belongings and began the short walk towards the Merchant’s Quarter. She was simply being paranoid, and the following day would almost certainly confirm it. 

[hr]
The confirmation was not what she expected. 

No heavy-cloaked, charcoal-fingered teenager visited her that day, and the unease only continued to grow. By the time she snuffed out her candle to settle in for the night, it was a dull roar in her ears like blood. She stared through the darkness for some time, willing sleep to come and put her mind at ease. [color=#C6E6F5][i]Tomorrow will be better,[/i][/color] she coached herself, consciousness drifting away in an agonizingly slow current. Sleep found her, nonetheless. 

And she dreamt of nights many years prior, when guards would bring a sobbing eight-year-old boy to her chambers in the early hours of Ipte because she was the only one who would console him. 

[hr]
She visited his dormitory on the third day of this sour paranoia, knocking lightly on the door well after classes had ended. No response ever came, and the thumping of her heart turned to fear and anger in equal parts. 

[hr]
On the fourth day a letter was sent instead, a short message inquiring to the boy’s wellbeing. It took all of Willa’s strength not to accompany it with admonishments, but by now the fear had overtaken the anger. She had not raised him to be this inconsiderate, to ignore common company to such an extent. Yes, that he might forget her teachings brought a gentle sort of rage, but there was nothing gentle to the bone-deep terror that accompanied the other possibility: that he was simply gone. 

[hr]
She prowled the city now, and spent a considerable time in Mudville searching for any signs that something unsavory had happened to her boy. She returned to her room to sleep for a few hours—and had not been able to sleep more than three at a time for the past two days—and it was a little past the second hour of Eshiran when she decided to visit the Arboretum again. 

The second her feet hit the grass, something felt different. Soothing, almost. Like she knew already what she would find, and it took only moments of scanning the opposite side of the lake before her eyes came to rest on the picnic. Even from across the water she could tell he looked tired—the kind that would take days to scrub from his skin. But he sat with a girl—the painter he had mentioned, perhaps?—and they seemed to be eating. As much as Willa wanted to march over and grab him by the shoulders to ask where in the Gods he had been, her terror was calmed enough simply by seeing him in the distance. 

Instead she sat down, cross-legged, to observe the youths. She couldn’t garner much detail from this far, but realized quickly that he seemed to be on a date. The boy didn’t move away when his companion grabbed his hand, as he had so often done for as long as Willa had known him, and she smiled. They seemed to be feeding each other, though even from here the tutor could read the awkwardness and uncertainty in his posture. 

The event culminated in what appeared to be a gift, though—a rock, perhaps, painted in strange colors? Had the girl decorated it herself? Kaspar held it in his lap, seeming to curl around the present, and Willa expected him to offer something in return, but as the minutes continued on, he never did. 

That would itself require a talking to. But not tonight, not when he was spending time with a “friend” and would likely need whatever rest he might get. 

Willa returned to her quarters lighter, and slept easily that night. 

[hr]
She sat with a simple meal on the grass, enjoying the midday hour and the sunlight on the lake. It was not a surprise at all when she spied the form of her student approaching, and the woman stood to meet him. When he was within speaking distance, her hands found her hips and the woman called, [color=#C6E6F5]“Could you not even answer my letter instead of leaving me to worry?”[/color]

He did not respond, and something in the boy seemed to slip as he got within a few steps of her, weariness settling onto his frame. He stuck his arms out and Willa enveloped him instinctively, his forehead pressing into her shoulder as he shook. 

He hugged her the same way he had as a child, desperate and clinging as though she might abandon him at any moment. He hadn’t sought physical comfort from her—or from [i]anyone[/i], best the tutor knew—in more than half a decade. But he hugged her now, as though freshly woken from a nightmare. She did not let him go until he pulled his own arms away. 

His cheeks were uncharacteristically ruddy and those crimson eyes watery as the boy glanced away, stiffening. [b][color=#B8041A]“Sorry, I—”[/color][/b]

[color=#C6E6F5]“You don’t need to be.”[/color]

He looked to her, brows furrowed as though he didn’t understand. Gently, Willa put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him to sit on the ground. She moved her own basket of food closer to him and said softly, [color=#C6E6F5]“Why don’t you tell me about it?”[/color]

[b][color=#B8041A]“I… I hate sand.”[/color][/b]

She quirked an eyebrow, but let the boy continue at his own pace. He spoke of a refuge in the sands for those with the Tethering, of the heat and the creatures of the desert. His words were vague, glazing over details on the exact dangers or how many were there to help, and it sat poorly in Willa’s stomach. But she could tell it had been hard on him, and didn’t want to push for more than he was capable of giving. 

She hadn’t seen him so emotional in a long time, and felt a pang of pride. He’d always taken the lessons on control to heart, and seemed to think it needed to be a constant state of being. But he was growing now—whether it was his choice or not—and it gave the tutor hope.

He was quiet for a long time after he finished talking, and Willa could tell he was still chewing something over in his mind. Softly, she placed a hand on his shoulder and offered, [color=#C6E6F5]“I’m [i]proud[/i] of you, Kaspar. Whatever you’ve been through, you dealt with it. That is the best I could ask for.”[/color]

He seemed to stiffen, though, and closed his eyes. She could see the way his hands trembled, and the boy finally turned to her. Tears made their way down his cheeks now, and he shook his head slowly. 

[b][color=#B8041A]“I’m not the real Kaspar.”[/color][/b] His whisper cracked, sticking in his throat. [b][color=#B8041A]“I… I never have been.”[/color][/b]

The boy might have learned well how to control his emotions, but Willa was the master who taught him. Whatever emotions bit at the surface of her being, it didn’t show. He needed her to be the calm one now, and she’d never dream of disappointing him. 

As he described the real events that had led to his placement at the Elstrøm estate, he seemed pained and guilty. He talked of replacing the supposedly dead heir, of being told he could never talk about the truth, and peeled back years of information that explained so much about the boy she knew. The guilt seemed to deepen tenfold as he revealed the truth that had been hidden from even him, and of meeting the boy who had been cast aside because of his disease. 

This was something Willa couldn’t fix. There was closure and redemption he felt he needed, and she knew only time and the first Kaspar could ease it. Truly, he didn’t [i]need[/i] to be redeemed, and from the way he spoke, this other boy didn’t blame him either, but it was a feeling that Kaspar seemed to hold steady in his soul. All Willa could do was try to ease the burden he’d given himself. 

[color=#C6E6F5]“Adults made decisions that you had no control over. It wasn’t your choice, and it’s not your fault. I know it’s hard to accept that now, but at least try to remember that this wasn’t something that you did alone,”[/color] she soothed, knowing the words could not dig deeper right now but hoping desperately that he could at least remember them. 

[hr]
She spent much of the afternoon walking through the city, digesting the things Kaspar had told her. By the time she returned to her room the sky was beginning to darken, and she sat wearily at her desk. 

An open letter was still laid out, and she remembered it had arrived yesterday. She’d only scanned the contents, looking for news of Kaspar, before casting it aside. Tiredly, she picked it up and began to reread the contents. 

[color=#EBC56B][i]Willa,

You are to return immediately to the Elstrøm Estate in Wentoft. Your duties remain to the Marquis, and I hope I need not remind you that Arvid Elstrøm von Wentoft is still quite alive, and his son has not yet inherited the position. Therefore, despite your misguided belief that Kaspar needs to be watched over, you have duties to fulfill at the Estate. Your expertise is required and others remain to be taught. 

Send word immediately when you have left Ersand’Enise, and travel promptly to Helbahn by whatever means fastest. 

You have ignored our previous summons. Allow me to assure you it would be most unwise to ignore this one.

Katka Estrøm
Marchioness of Wentoft[/i][/color]

The Marchioness’s swooping signature seemed to sour on the page, and Willa felt barely-contained rage at the woman who had so thoroughly devastated two young children. Her and her husband both. Whatever Kaspar might choose about his future and his status, he would need the support of those who knew him well. 

Pulling out a piece of parchment and dipping her quill into its inkwell, Willa’s writing was quick and sharp. 

[color=#C6E6F5][i]Marchioness Katka Eltrøm von Wentoft,

I am leaving the service of you and your husband, Marquis Arvid Elstrøm von Wentoft. I will not be returning to Helbahn, as I have found more pressing duties than those present at your estate.

Willa[/i][/color]

Sealed simply in wax, the letter would find its way to the Elstrøm Estate in time. There were two other Elstrøms who needed to be cared for, their parents be damned.